Order of the Dragon
by mindofemmette
Summary: 31/? When Harry Potter starts coming into his full wizarding powers too early, what better way to stabilize his magic than a full marriage bond? Certain Weasley brothers can't stand to see Harry manipulated any longer, and suddenly plans change. Eventual Harry/Charlie, Fred/George, Sirius/? Begins after Harry's fourth year, but only VERY loosely follows plot after that point. Abuse
1. Chapter 1

~ Chapter One ~

George smiled softly from the shadows in front of Grimmauld Place as Fred slipped out the front door and grinned mischievously in his direction. George felt the flutter in his stomach as the sly glint in his twin's eyes focused on him. He hoped the novelty of their new relationship never stopped speeding his heart and softening his grin.

"Well brother..." Fred started towards him.

"...that went quite well..." George continued with a step out of the shadows.

"...if I do say so myself!" They finished together with matching smirks of accomplishment before leaning forward and quickly pressing their lips together. They straightened up then, eyes sharp and expressions somber.

"Best be off..."

"...while the opportunity presents itself."

"Ready George?"

"Ready Fred." Wands held aloft, the two brothers clasped hands and disappeared with a swirl of their cloaks.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry Potter's brow was creased in concentration and a single drop of blood glistened where his teeth bit tightly into his lower lip. He knew the consequences of his Aunt or Uncle hearing so much as a whimper from his room as they walked past on their way to bed; he'd take a sore lip over that any day. It was this threat of punishment as much as the stiff muscles, blistering sunburn and dark blotches of bruises (courtesy of his cousin Dudley) that made even so simple a task as removing his shirt an excruciatingly slow and painful process.

Harry exhaled harshly in frustration, annoyed with himself when he could hardly raise his arms enough to remove the shirt. He thought distractedly that he had heard a crack from somewhere down the street, but before he could try to identify the sound he heard rustling from Hedwig's cage and froze with his shirt still over on arm and around his neck. He turned to look at her and did his best to smile reassuringly. Her wings were ruffling in indignation and her eyes, as they gazed at the new marks on his body, were round with remorse and bright with anger. She opened her beak and Harry tensed in fear, a sharp gasp echoing in the room. He needn't have worried. Uncle Vernon had locked him in his room without food for three days the first time his owl had woken the Dursleys. It had broken his heart to see her hanging her head in guilt until he was finally let out, and no matter her temper she had yet to make the mistake again.

Harry relaxed his shoulders (now throbbing in pain) and sighed in relief. He smiled thankfully at her before carefully removing his shirt the rest of the way, and grimacing down at the hideous purpling blotch of skin that had been his left side before becoming well acquainted with Dudley's foot that morning.

"Bloody hell, Harry." Two voices whispered from the doorway, and Harry spun around in shock.

XxXxXxXxX

Fred and George appeared in the shadows of a swing set with a soft crack. They had found that apparition, like many of the things they did, was easier when done together. Their eyes darted quickly about, thankful to be the only ones around, and they slipped their wands carefully into their pockets. It had been three years since they had seen the playground from the front seats of their father's enchanted car. The same gut feeling that had found them "borrowing" the car and rescuing Harry from his relative's house all those years ago had convinced them to make this visit in the first place.

With their wands stored safely away (they weren't about to pull a Dobby and have Harry arrested for underage magic), the two turned as one and hurried down the street. They stuck to the shadows, years of sneaking making any verbal communication unnecessary. In no time, they were slinking past the hedges in front of number 4 Privet Drive and, with a last assessing glance around the street, onto the front porch.

A lifetime of breaking into places they weren't meant to be, even as children, taught the twins the fine art of lock-picking long before they had magic at their disposure (as they had demonstrated for Harry during their first trip to his Uncle's house). Fred snickered when George had the front door swinging open in ten seconds flat, and only turned it into a satisfied smirk instead at George's warning look as he held a finger to his lips and stepped over the threshold.

Both boys rolled their eyes in disgust at the fat boy repulsively displayed in pictures all around the room before creeping silently up the stairs. George once again worked soundlessly on a lock with Fred smiling on. This time, however, his twin shared the smile which was much warmer. There was no sound behind Harry's door, and both boys were looking forward to the happy surprise on the younger boy's face when they woke him.

The twins looked up at the same moment, a door swinging open soundlessly for the second time that night. Their smiles vanished instantly.

"Bloody hell, Harry."

Harry's back, neck, and shoulders were so blistered they were actually bleeding in places. A spattering of bruises at various points of healing crossed the lower half of his back, and even from behind each of his ribs was clearly protruding. When their words shocked the younger boy into spinning towards them, George couldn't hold back a soft cry of despair. Seeing Harry's terrified glance at the open door, Fred quickly pulled his brother into the room and shut the door behind them. A soft hand on his twin's arm enough to quiet the other boy.

"Fred? George?" Harry's careful whisper was laced with disbelief. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

George spoke first, forcing a smile and seemingly determined to make up for his earlier reaction.  
"Haven't heard form you this summer..."

"...thought we ought to check up on you..."

"...you being our silent investor and all..."

"...and to bring you a gift..."

"...first of many..."

"...to say thanks." This last they said together, George pulling out a small bag from an inside pocket of his cloak and handing it to Harry.

"New Weasley invention," he explained. "Extendable ears."

"We couldn't be doing any of this without your help, mate." Fred added sincerely.

Harry's mouth had twitched into an involuntary smile as the twins effortlessly filled in each others' thoughts. He took the bag from George, not yet opening it, but letting his fingers trace meaningless patterns across the smooth material.

"Thank you. You didn't need to... thanks." Harry's voice was even softer this time, and the twins glanced at each other, knowing they had to ask and knowing with just as much certainly that Harry wouldn't want them to. After the silence had stretched on for several long moments, Fred stepped carefully towards Harry. Making sure to maintain eye contact as he stretched out his arm, he waited until the last moment to lower his gaze and ghost his fingertips over the terrifying bruise on Harry's left side. He couldn't help thinking that these marks made quidditch injuries look tame, and even then there was magic to swiftly heal the wounds. Fred didn't miss Harry's sharp breath at even that small contact.

"You look like shit Harry."

Whether it was relief at Fred not questioning him with careful pity or the shock of the twins' arrival finally setting in, Harry let out a loud snort of laughter and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Despite the gravity of the situation, both twins grinned at their young friend while they all held their breath, waiting to hear the sound of Vernon's large clumpy steps thumping down the hall. There was no sound after several moments, however, and Harry visibly relaxed. He hesitated a moment longer, but after one more quick glance at each of them, shrugged and said, "Dudley introduced me to his new shoes. I don't see a grand friendship in our futures."

"Fat porker" "Stupid Git," the twins muttered together with matching winces. Harry chuckled soundlessly and nodded while pulling a clean shirt out of a cardboard box from under the bed. He seemed to debate with himself for a minute before tilting his head towards them and asking without eye contact,

"Mind giving me a hand? My shoulders are a bit sore, the other one was a bitch to get off."

XxXxXxXxX

Fred felt his stomach churn as his fingers brushed the abused flesh on his friend's side. He knew Harry, though, and pity was the last thing he'd want.

"You look like shit, Harry." He smiled at the boy's snort of laughter and somehow knew his twin would be sporting a matching grin behind him. For a kid with so much going against him, Harry had always been remarkably resilient.

Lost in thought, he almost missed Harry's soft request to help him with the clean shirt. George stepped past him, tenderly guiding the smaller boy's limbs through the material. For once, Fred saw some good in the over-sized clothing his friend wore.

As his brother frowned in concentration, gingerly trying to avoid the many injuries as the boy continued to flinch at even the gentle contact, Fred swore to himself he'd find a way to help Harry.

"Your prat of a cousin introduce you to his footwear often then?" George's question was soft and his tone easy, but Harry didn't pretend to miss the point. He took a moment to consider his answer, but seemed to be cautiously considering the twins' concern.

"Why do you ask?"

"To know just how gruesome to make his death." Fred dead-panned, and Harry couldn't hide the amused sparkle from his eyes. It didn't last however, and Harry was clearly still searching for the right answer from his visitors.

"Did Dumbledore send you?" Neither twin was sure just what Harry was really asking, but figured they owed him honest answers either way.

"Nah, had to sneak out, mate..."

"...not that that's a rare occurrence for the two of us..."

"...a side hobby, one might even say..."

"...but we tend to avoid giving the Headmaster an itinerary of our plans..."

"...particularly the less-than-allowed ones." Twin grins flashed at him, and Harry sat down on the small bed, motioning for the other two to join him so his voice wouldn't have to carry as far.

"The Dursleys have never been the 'loving-family' type. I've been Dudley's punching bag and entertainment as long as I can remember, and there's a reason I accidently inflated my Aunt third year with only verbal provoking; my cousin may be the only one to actually hit me, but my Aunt and Uncle are masters at insults. I'm sure you already know that I don't eat the greatest here... me being allowed to eat sort of comes as a second thought, one often forgotten. Not to mention locking me in my room for days at a time is a particular favorite as far as punishments go." The twins caught each other's' eyes, the hard glint of fury reflected in both sets.

"But if it always happens..."

"...why not tell someone?" Even whispered, Harry's bark of laughter was harsh and bitter.

"Like who? Ron and Hermione listen with sad eyes, rant in indignation, then tell me to go tell Dumbledore. Dumbledore asks if my Aunt or Uncle physically harm me or I feel my life is threatened, then smiles indulgently when I say no and encourages me to 'be agreeable and look for the best in people.' Then he offers me a lemon drop. Remus and Sirius both insist I'm safer here, and even if I told them exactly why I hate it here...they've risked and lost too much because of me already, I won't endanger their lives even more." Harry finally looked up at them, fierce challenge in his eyes. It quickly turned to confusion, though, as the twins just blinked patiently at him. "Well?" Harry eventually prompted.

"Well?" The twins echoed back in unison after sharing a perplexed look.

"This is usually the part where someone pushes me to tell someone else." Fred's brow furrowed as he answered carefully,

"But you just told us why you weren't going to do that mate." It was Harry's turn to watch them blinking, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Slowly, the twins seemed to realize what the problem was and their eyes softened.

"We're not going to ignore your decisions..."

"...you're a big boy..."

"...and Merlin knows you can take care of yourself..."

"...you get enough of that from other people." They finished together. Harry nodded solemnly, and the twins were amazed at how much that simple respect meant to him.

"Harry, will you tell us what happened to your back?" Not for the first time, their young friend broke eye contact and thought carefully before answering.

"Just sunburn..." The brothers continued to stare at him, Harry fidgeting nervously under their matching gazes. Finally, he sighed in defeat and took his glasses off to massage his temples as though warding off a particularly bothersome headache. "My Aunt has me doing chores outside, a lot. It's hot working in the sun, and I sweat. She decided I wasn't worth the extra detergent she'd have to pay for to let me wash the extra clothes, so she... she forbid me from wearing a shirt outside. You can imagine her thoughts on 'wasting' money for sunscreen for me." Fred and George were staring at him, eyes wide with shocked fury.

"That sack of no good..."

"...dragon dung!"

"Blimey Harry..."

"...it can't have always been so bad?" Harry heard the pain in his friends' voices and guiltily rushed to reassure them.

"Nah, growing up it was much more neglect than anything else. Got a bit worse after the incident with Dudley's tail, and I suppose me finding out I was a wizard in general. This new evil streak really didn't show up until after last summer, when-" Harry cut himself off suddenly, a flash of regret in his eyes before he ducked his head. The twins, unfortunately, had always been rather astute at figuring out things they weren't supposed to know.

"It seems young Harry is hiding something from us George."

"But why would he do such a thing Fred?"

"I suppose if I had as kind a heart as Harry..."

"...I wouldn't want to tell me it was my fault either." Harry looked sharply from one twin to the other.

"His dear family got worse when the fat cousin was given a harmless tail, isn't that right George?"

"Makes you wonder how they'd react to watching him almost choke on his own tongue, doesn't it Fred?" Harry winced, the twins clearly having made the connection to the prank they had pulled on Harry's cousin the previous summer.

"It's not your fault." Harry insisted The twins shared a quick look before turning to Harry and saying in one voice,

"It's not your fault, either."

XxXxXxXxX

Fred and George were careful to creep silently past the portrait of Mrs. Black before apparating up to their room. They hadn't stopped holding hands since reluctantly leaving Harry. Only when he pointed out that Uncle Vernon was unlikely to react well if he found the twins in his house when he woke up had really pushed them out the door.

Fred felt the tremor in his twin's hand and quickly pulled his trembling brother into his arms, guiding him gently backwards until he could lower them carefully onto one of their beds. He pressed a soft kiss to the fiery hair falling over George's forehead, then tucked him against his shoulder and held him close, one hand rubbing his lower back, the other tangled into the fine hair at the base of his neck. It was one more thing that had always made them close; George's need to be held when upset and Fred's need for someone to hold.

Fred and George had spent most of the time they had left with Harry making him smile as much as possible. Right before leaving, though, they had told Harry to make sure and write, and had gotten only a funny look in return.

_"We know Hedwig's locked up Mate..."_

_"...but she's not the only owl in the world!"_

_"Send a note for us the next time Ron writes..."_

_"...even if it does mean using that ruddy Pig!" They rolled their eyes, thinking of Ron's small, overly excitable owl. It took them a moment to realize Harry was carefully avoiding their eyes once more._

_"Tell us, Harry." Fred pushed, a feeling of dread slowly building in his stomach._

_"Ron hasn't written me all summer. No one has."_

George wrapped his arms around his brother's neck, covering his face in barely-there kisses for comfort, knowing his brother was remembering the broken look in Harry's eyes.

"We'll fix this Fred. He won't have to keep doing this alone."

XxXxXxXxX

The twins waited until late the following afternoon before taking action. They knew they'd have to be cautious about bringing Harry up in conversation; they didn't want to seem suspicious (well, any more suspicious than they always seemed anyway). Mrs. Weasley was supervising the cleaning of yet another bedroom, and was drawn muttering from the room when the doorbell rang and set off a series of shrieks and insults from the front hall tapestry of Mrs. Black. Seeing their opportunity the twins sidled up to Ron while Hermione wandered down to the kitchen for a clean bucket of water.

"Blasted shrew..."

"...bet we could make a fortune selling tickets to that..."

"...of course we'd lose it all giving refunds when her ugly face blinded the audience..."

"...almost makes you miss having Percy around..."

"...can't imagine Harry was too pleased..."

"...when you wrote him about his dear god-grandma..."

"...was he little Ronniekins?"

The approach was effective, taking Ron from laughter at the insults to shock at the mention of his brother to anger at Ron's pet name, and leaving no time to wonder why the twins cared anyway.

"Shove off, gits. I've no idea what Harry'll think"

"Aww, Won-Won hasn't told his little friend about the mean, nasty portrait yet?"

"Whatever do you prattle on about baby brother?"

"...bad dreams?"

"...boo-boos?"

"...unrequited love?"

"...your own life failings?"

"...nah, not enough parchment for that!" Ron's whole face was flushed from their tormenting, and the twins nearly forgot why they had started the ordeal in the first place; so distracted were they ducking as Ron threw a dirty rag too far over their heads and clutching their sides with laughter.

"I don't write Harry about anything, Dumbledore told us not too! Now piss off." Fred and George shared thoughtful looks behind Ron's back after he stormed to the corner of the room in anger. By the time Hermione returned, all three were back to work as though nothing had happened.


	2. Chapter 2

~ Chapter Two ~

Charlie Weasley kept his face carefully composed into a blank expression as the argument continued between the members of the Order. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place and let his eyes slide from face to face around the room. Not for the first time Charlie thanked whatever higher power existed for giving him a job that kept him out of most Order meetings. He wasn't made for the politics of the group, and even less for the way he started seeing all his friends and family as chess pieces every time Dumbledore started giving orders.

There was a lull in conversation and Charlie roused himself from his musings just in time to catch the end of what the headmaster was saying to him.

"...it would therefore be naive to hope that dark creatures could merely be kept as neutral parties in this war. Charlie, thank you for making it to this meeting, I understand how challenging it is to get away from Romania and we appreciate you taking your time to report on your progress."

"I'm afraid you may have unrealistic expectations for what I can do for you, professor. Dragon handlers' lives are devoted to the dragons they protect. When you commit your life to guarding something that strong and powerful from a world that fears and hates it, there is no space to worry about anything else. The only way you're sure to draw their attention into this war is to threaten their dragons, and believe me that is the last sort of attention you want. Our best hope is to lure them in as soon as Voldemort makes the wrong move where the dragons are concerned. Short of drawing an allegiance from the dragons themselves, you'll have to be patient." Charlie carefully avoided looking at either of his parents, knowing they would not feel it was appropriate for him to be telling Albus Dumbledore he needed more patience.

"Now now, my boy; no one would ask more of you than you were able to achieve. You have the connections already, you've reported on your work there before. I can come with you to persuade those handlers you feel lean most strongly towards the light." Albus smiled at him like a doting grandfather before turning to someone down the table. "Now Kingsly-"

"With all due respect, headmaster," Charlie's interruption was met with a stunned silence from all in the room. He saw Snape slowly raise a single eyebrow, lips stretching impossibly thinner in a sneer, and even Mad-Eye had both eyes riveted to Charlie. Dumbledore himself turned back to Charlie in surprise, though he seemed to recover his composure the quickest.

Charlie swiped his now sweaty palms on his thighs before continuing. When he did speak, though, his voice was calm and firm.

"Sir, I appreciate the offer, but how would your presence on the reserve help?"

"Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley's reprimand was both scolding and shocked, but her son merely shook his head at her before turning fully towards the headmaster.

"The reason dragon handlers love their animals so much is a deep respect not only for the power they use, but also the power they do not. They seem to be among a very few creatures who understand that one should not always do something simply because they are capable of it." Dumbledore's eyebrows rose at the hidden message, but Charlie pushed ahead before he lost his nerve. "You tasked me with forming whatever allegiance possible between the dragon reserves and the Order because I know best how they work. Trust me to use that knowledge now." Charlie paused for a moment, but knew what he was saying was too important to leave unsaid, whatever the consequences. Still, his voice was softer when he continued. "The wizarding world sees only what there is to fear or gain from dragons and decrees laws with those ends in mind, no thought to what the dragons themselves want or need. What will you say to the handlers when you show up uninvited to the reserves that won't reinforce those perceptions?"

The room was nearly sparking with tension, barely-audible conversations taking place on every side of the table. Dumbledore waited a few moments to allow some of the shock to wear off before clearing his throat and effectively silencing the room once more.

"I trust you will keep the severity of your assignment in mind. Thank you, Charlie." The dismissal was clear in his tone, and Charlie stood stiffly, his frustration evident with every step. He returned Sirius's barely perceptible nod as he passed and stoutly ignored his father trying to catch his eye as he walked across the kitchen. The door had not even closed behind him when Dumbledore's voice commanded attention from the room once again, and the red-head almost missed the muffled voices from the landing above and the flesh-colored string quickly being pulled upwards. With the reflexes of a seeker, he leapt forward and snatched what appeared to be a rubber ear out of the air before crossing his arms and waiting for a matching set of similarly fiery heads to peek over the upstairs railing.

Charlie tilted his head expectantly and waited to hear what far-fetched excuse his little brothers would have for listening in on an Order meeting this time.

What he wasn't expecting was the urgency he saw on the twins' faces or the clear concern in their voices when they told him they needed his help.

XxXxXxXxX

Just shy of 9:00am, and Little Whinging, Surry, was already doing a fine imitation of an oven. Charlie trudged slowly up Privet Drive, the toe of his shoe scuffing along the pavement every few steps, lightly kicking a rock in front of him as he walked. The twins had been adamant; absolutely no magic anywhere near Harry. Still, Charlie walked with his hands shoved into the pockets of his snug, black jeans so that he could brush the fingers of his right hand over the smooth handle of his wand. He blinked slowly as another bead of sweat dripped down his face and wished, not for the first time, that the form-fitting black muscle shirt and skinny jeans hadn't been his only muggle clothing on hand. Most of the handlers preferred the more flexible range of muggle apparel over wizarding robes, but this particular outfit he usually put aside for letting off steam at the muggle clubs in the city nearest the reserve. The material clung to every curve; perfect for catching the eye of an attractive man, but definitely not made for a morning hike in the sun. The beat-up book-bag weighing down on his back didn't help matters.

By the time the twins had finished talking to him, Charlie had been exhausted and decided to crash at Grimmauld Place for the night. He had planned to make his escape with the rising sun, but he should have known better than to think he could avoid the scolding from his mother. He just hoped Harry was awake and home so he could leave soon to return to Romania. He had given his word to Fred and George as it had clearly been important to them, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what could have his mischievous brothers so concerned.

_"Charlie..."_

_"...we need your help." The twins begged him with their eyes, and Charlie quickly nodded and followed them upstairs and down to a room at the end of the hallway. Whatever lecture he might have been considering about eavesdropping was immediately forgotten in favor of ensuring that his brothers were alright. His eyebrows shot up as the twins immediately wove the most intricate combination of locking, silencing, and privacy charms on the room he had ever seen as the door swung shut behind them. So much for his mother's theory that the only magic the two trouble-makers bothered to learn were tricks to torment their family._

_He watched, fascinated as always at the deep conversation which appeared to be taking place in front of him without a single word being spoken. Instead, the twins relied on facial expressions, shrugs, and what seemed suspiciously like telepathy. They seemed to reach a decision at last, Fred (Charlie had always been one of the few able to tell them apart) nodded and George turned to his older brother._

_"We need a favor..." He began, Fred of course jumping in a moment later._

_"...we understand if you can't-"_

_"-or won't-"_

_"-help, but either way we need your word you won't tell a soul what we've asked you..."_

_"...or anything else you may see or hear as a result of our request..."_

_"...no matter what your reasons." Charlie studied them carefully, searching for any sign of a prank and finding none._

_"I don't know if I'll help you, whatever it is, but even if I don't I won't say anything."_

_"Swear it," Fred insisted._

_"Swear it on our bond as brothers."_

_The silence that followed George's statement was nearly palpable, and Charlie knew at that moment that whatever he was about to be asked to do, his answer would be yes._

_"I swear on my love and bond with each of you not to breathe a word of the conversation that happens here tonight to another soul without your express permission, granted neither you nor anyone else's life is in imminent danger."_

_Twin sets of shoulders relaxed gratefully, and they said as one voice,_

_"It's Harry..."_

Charlie shook his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and frowned in frustration. The twins had told him that they had gone to see Harry in secret after not hearing from him yet that summer. They wouldn't tell him much about the visit, only that they had realized Hedwig was locked up and that they had stayed most of the night. All of this so that Charlie would agree to drop by Harry's Uncle's house before returning to Romania and see what he could do for a burn on the boy's back.

Charlie had tried to wheedle more information out of them after seeing the dark look they shared, but the twins had stubbornly refused. The rest of the night had been spent with Fred and George relaying stories of Harry accidentally blowing up his aunt, and the Malfoy's old house elf showing up and nearly getting Harry expelled. Charlie had sworn not to use any magic unless his very life depended on it.

He was glad to see the numbers on the houses he passed finally narrowing down to single digits, and wished he could tap his wand for the time. As he began scanning the houses in front of him with his eyes, trying to locate number 4, the faint sound of voices carried over the heat of the empty street.

"...Should have drowned you like Marge suggested when you turned up on our stoop! Ungrateful little freak, soiling our home with your filth and frightening our boy!"

"Hush dear, the neighbors will hear!" Charlie scowled in disgust at the man and woman's words, barely resisting the urge to run down the road and hex them for treating some poor creature that way. _Probably a stray, _he thought. _Poor animal's better off on the street than with that lot! _Despite his promise of no magic, Charlie's pace quickened as he hurried to locate which house the voices came from. They were obviously out in the back yard, or he surely would have seen them by now.

"...I would've thought two days without food would go a ways to shaping you up. We'll just have to see what another two days does!" Charlie actually growled at the words, no longer worried about his wand as he hurried towards the house in question, sure his anger was more than enough to fuel strangling the loud man and his wheedling wife; she was still whining on about the neighbors hearing.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go back inside. Leave the boy out here; we'll deal with him later." Charlie stood frozen in the driveway at her words, the sound of a door in the rear of the house closing as loud as a firecracker against the blood pounding in his ears. He turned around excruciatingly slow, his stomach churning with dread even before he saw the neat little "4" painted onto the mailbox at the end of the drive.

His heart seemed to drop somewhere near his naval and he walked as though being led by an invisible leash; up to the house, around the side, and carefully through the gate in the back fence.

The red, peeling, bruised and bloody skin stretched too-snug around the tiny frame of Harry's body was almost more than Charlie could handle, and he stood in the gate, mouth open and eyes round with shock for a good minute watching the boy tend to the lush, meticulously kept garden. He saw as Harry's shoulders stiffened, hands stilling instantly as he became aware of someone else's presence. Charlie moved slowly, hands held out in front of him in the universal signal for 'I come in peace' and his voice, when he spoke, had automatically dropped to the soothing tone he adopted when approaching young, frightened dragons.

"Easy, Harry. Don't turn around too fast. You'll tear the burnt skin on your shoulders even more."

XxXxXxXxX

After two days with nothing to eat, Harry hadn't had the energy to react to his cousin's insults that morning. He supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise, then, when his uncle had come barreling into the back-yard shortly after breakfast screaming about how he had threatened Dudley with his magic and scared the over-sized boy. Merlin forbid Dudley start his day without getting Harry in trouble. He knew he wouldn't make it four days without food, which meant he'd have to figure out how to nibble on something from the garden without being discovered. His bigger concern was Hedwig. Even without needing to eat every day, the amount of time he had been spending without food and the inadequate scraps he was given the rest of the time were starting to take their toll on the owl. He wasn't sure she could make it through the summer at the rate they were going.

Harry was so wrapped up in his worries that he didn't notice at first when someone entered the yard behind him. He froze when he suddenly realized he was no longer alone, and his mind kicked into defense mode as he scrambled to think of a useful weapon knowing his wand was locked away with the rest of his connections to the magical world.

"Easy, Harry. Don't turn around too fast. You'll tear the burnt skin on your shoulders even more." Recognizing the voice of the second Weasley son, a small part of Harry's brain acknowledged he should be grateful it wasn't Death Eaters, or even Dudley's gang. For the most part, though, he was far too busy imagining the various ways in which he was going to kill Fred and George for ratting him out. As he sat back on back on his heels and slowly turned towards the gate, however, all conscious thoughts flew out of his head.

Charlie's hair was long and wild, as though nature knew better than to try to tame the fiery locks. The natural high-lights sprinkled throughout were evidence of all his time spent working in the sun, and his skin was nearly tan from all the freckles. The muscles of his arms were framed invitingly by the snug edges of his sleeveless shirt. Material clung to nearly every surface of his body, leaving nothing to the imagination and making Harry infinitely grateful for his own baggy shorts. He watched the tight muscles of Charlie's thighs flex and release as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and quickly tore his gaze up to the red-head's face before he could get caught checking out what lay between those amazing thighs.

Charlie was cautiously lowering his hands to his sides from where they had been held in front of him as though approaching a cornered blast-ended skrewt. Harry had been prepared for pity or discomfort from the older boy, but when their eyes met Harry instead found patience, compassion, and an emotion he could only identify as respect. He sighed tiredly, wondering how long it would be before one of his relatives noticed the visitor.

"They aren't going to be happy when they see you." Charlie didn't react right away, but after searching Harry's eyes for a moment he nodded and walked towards the back of the house, turning and sitting comfortably in the dirt between two shrubs, back against the wall. Harry's Aunt and Uncle would have to step a considerable distance into the lawn or come from the side of the house as Charlie had in order to see the red-haired wizard. Harry hesitated, glancing at the garden he was supposed to be weeding and then at the windows of the house. Charlie smiled kindly.

"It's okay Harry, I know you have to keep working in case they check on you. Just listen, and turn your back to me if you need to say something, they'll never know." Harry did as he was told, thankful the heat of the morning meant windows were closed to trap the cool air, and tried not to act suspiciously with the gaze of the hot Weasley following his every move.

"Fred and George asked me to come." Charlie started, then waited to see if Harry would comment. When the silence stretched on long enough, he continued as though there was no pause. "They told me they came to see you, though not before making me swear on our bond as brothers that even if I wouldn't do the favor they were going to ask me, I couldn't tell a soul about our conversation." Harry's hands fumbled for a moment at that, but still he didn't comment. "They asked me to come look at a burn you had on your back."

Harry closed his eyes a moment, realization setting in. Of course the twins wouldn't have sold him out more than necessary, but Charlie worked with dragons; who better to treat a burn? He couldn't fairly be mad at them for sending Charlie to him. He knew the line between stubborn and stupid, and turning down help for his back would definitely have been crossing it.

"Is that all they told you?"

"No." Charlie's matter-of-fact answer made Harry wince, and he wondered why he had believed the twins would keep their word and not tell anyone about his situation.

"Harry. _Harry!_" Harry glanced bashfully at the other boy, his tone making it clear that it was not the first time he had called his name.

"Sorry." He heard Charlie sigh at the apology and wasn't sure how to interpret it. Luckily for him, an explanation followed before he had time to dwell on it.

"They told me they hadn't heard from you this summer, and were worried. They told me they went to see you without permission, and that they found out you weren't allowed to use your owl. They also explained rather thoroughly exactly why I was not to so much as cast a 'lumos' spell within shouting distance of Privet Drive." Harry ducked his head, hoping the unruly, sweaty hair falling in front of his face would hide the flush. "Did you really blow up your aunt before your third year?"

"I... yeah I did." Harry muttered, trying not to move his lips as he answered and bracing himself for the lecture on control.

"Wicked!" Charlie's voice held nothing but pure amusement, and it was such a reflection of the twins' voices, albeit dropped half an octave, that Harry finally relaxed fully.

"You think you can help my back?" For the first time, he allowed himself to hope that something was going his way that summer.

"I'm sure as hell going to try. How bad is the pain?"

"...My shoulders feel as though they're on fire." He hoped his delay wouldn't be noticed, but he should have known that Charlie would be just as impossible to fool and distract as his twin brothers were.

"Okay, and your back?"

Harry sighed.

"I can't really feel it anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

~ Chapter Three ~

Charlie sat between the hedges sweating in the dry summer heat and watching Harry work for the rest of the morning. The garden was flawless, the lawn, despite its already immaculate condition, had been mown. At one point, Harry's Aunt had slammed the back door open suddenly and Charlie had held his breath, sure he was about to be discovered. Instead, she had simply dumped a large cardboard box on the ground and snapped, "Wash them!" before retreating back into the house, slamming the door behind her. He had waited a moment to make sure she wasn't returning then crept forward to peer around the bushes and see what she had brought.

"What the bloody...?" He stared flabbergasted at the gardening tools, twins to the set Harry was using but for the fact that these were perhaps ten times the others in quality. Ducking his head to disguise the fact that he was talking, Harry explained that his Aunt refused to use the same tools he did when she tended the flowers in the front yard. He was not allowed to work in the front where there was no tall fence to hide him from neighbors' view.

"And you're to wash the lot of them now?" Charlie was clearly trying very hard to make sense of the arbitrary request.

"Yes. If there's a spot of dirt left on a single one, I'll be punished."

"A spot of dirt?! They're garden tools!" Harry didn't answer beyond a soft hushing sound, obviously not wanting Charlie to draw his Aunt back outside. Lowering his voice to a growl, Charlie continued. "She's just inventing ways to keep you slaving away out here." Harry smiled sadly and didn't bother to answer as he turned on the hose and began scrubbing away at a small hand-shovel with his calloused fingers. The low stream of cursing that followed would surely have made Harry blush if he understood the languages they were spoken in. Still, his shrug seemed to suggest that the sentiments were mutual.

Finally, just after noon, a window slid open somewhere to Charlie's left and Vernon's voice floated out into the garden.

"Boy! Your Aunt and I are taking Dudders out for lunch. Don't think you can steal food while we're gone; all the cupboards are locked and your Aunt will know if something is missing. For that matter, finish your chores and then get off my property until it's time for you to come back and make dinner. I'm locking you out." He sounded smug, and the loathing tone actually made the red-head cringe. He heard a rustling from in the house and then a pile of gray cloth fell with a _thwump_ onto the lawn before the window snapped shut.

Harry didn't react until he heard his relatives getting into their car and driving up the street. He then stood and picked up what turned out to be a worn, over-sized shirt and gently shook the dirt out. Charlie's breath caught in his throat as the younger boy grinned brightly at him for the first time, gleaming emerald eyes peering through the curtain of bangs which fell almost to his nose with his head tipped down to peer at the red-head. Even too-thin and skin marked with abuse, Charlie had to stop himself from licking his lips as a bead of sweat rolled down and over each defined muscle in the boy's stomach, only to hold back a groan as it drew his attention to the sharp jut of hipbones peeking out above the over-large shorts hung enticingly low on Harry's waist despite the belt that cinched them to half their original width.

_He's my baby brother's best mate, he's an abused kid, he's bloody fourteen years old for fuck's sake!_ Charlie fervently reminded himself, almost missing what Harry was saying to him.

"...and I haven't run into anyone there in all the years I've been going, so I figure it's the perfect place for you to work on my back if you're going to need magic."

"Uh... yeah, brilliant. Show me," he quickly agreed, not sure exactly what it was he was agreeing to but desperately needing the smaller boy to break eye contact and turn away before he gave in to temptation and found out exactly how smooth the darkly tanned skin on his chest was. Harry did turn then, and seeing the scalded skin of his back up close was more than enough to quickly sober Charlie's thoughts. He stood up himself, brushing the dirt from the back of his jeans and swinging his bag over one shoulder before following Harry (who was now gingerly lowering the shirt over his arms) out of the yard.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry grew increasingly nervous as he led the tall red-head down the streets of Little Whinging. The other boy was clearly curious but, much to Harry's relief, followed him gamely without asking questions. When they turned a corner to see headstones in the distance, he slowed reflexively.

_The graveyard had reached capacity long before Harry was left on the step of number 4 Privet Drive, the last reserved lot receiving it's eternal occupant when Harry was eight years old. He remembers the day clearly, watching the funeral procession from his secret clearing right beyond the line of trees that separated the cemetery from the highway about 100 yards back._

_That day Harry had accidentally scored higher than Dudley on a math test, and his cousin had found out. It was the first time Dudley had landed him in the hospital, but it wouldn't be the last. It was one of the few times Uncle Vernon had punished the other boy, shouting at him and denying him dessert that evening. He knew now that it was the unwanted attention the incident brought to his relatives more than Harry's own well-being which had concerned his uncle, but at the time he had been so scared and confused that he had fled to his one safe haven._

_He had never been to a funeral before, hadn't ever thought about what sort of traditions surrounded lowering a loved-one's body into the ground and burying it. He saw how friends and family stood together, arms around each other and tears being comforted away as the priest spoke. He wondered who had dried his tears when his parents were buried after their car accident; wondered where they were buried, and where their friends and family were today when his cousin had jumped on his arm while two of his friends held Harry down on a bench, his lower arm partially suspended over the edge as the target._

_Despite the cold bite of February winds, Harry had stayed for hours. He sat holding his broken arm against his body and watching as the funeral finished, guests said their final good-byes, and slowly left. Eventually, two men had lowered the coffin completely into the ground, and proceeded to bury it. They smoothed out the ground over the grave and then they, too, left. Harry had finally moved then, trembling not only from the cold but also from the pain of his arm. Uncle Vernon had taken his pain pills as punishment for "making Dudley feel inferior at school," and whatever he had been given at the hospital had long since worn off. _

_He crept over to the freshly churned Earth and stood respectfully at the edge of the plot._

_"You were very loved. A lot of people were very sad to lose you. They're going to miss you a lot, I can tell. So I was thinking, you must have been a really nice person. So, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I was wondering if you might find my parents and tell them that they are very loved and very missed, too. They died a long time ago." He hesitated a moment then stepped gingerly onto the fresh dirt and knelt to place three sleek pinecones and a sparkly stone next to the headstone, the way he had seen people leaving flowers for loved ones in the past. "Thanks," he whispered, before quickly turning and hurrying to make it back to his Aunt and Uncle's house before they locked him out for the night._

Strong arms wrapped around him, mindful of his burns and bruises, and Harry realized he must have been telling the story out loud. They were now at the entrance to the cemetery, Harry's back held gently against the hard planes of Charlie's body, whose chin was hooked over the top of the smaller boy's head. He didn't try to sooth Harry's pain or rant about the Dursleys on his behalf. Instead, he stood patiently, offering silent comfort and tightening his hold reassuringly when Harry relaxed into the embrace.

They stood like that for several moments until Harry took a deep breath and straightened in Charlie's arms. He loosened his grip, but did not let go.

"Car accident...?" he questioned then, and Harry surprised himself by explaining.

"When I was a kid, my Aunt and Uncle told me my parents died in a car crash. They liked reminding me how I was a good-for-nothing freak like my parents, and that I would end up the same way as them some day." Harry found himself abruptly held tightly once more, and tried to ignore the warm prickle behind his eyes as unexpected emotion swept through him. He lifted his hands to grip the arms wrapped around him, fingers digging into the red-head's muscles harshly as though Harry could literally hold the pain away.

"Esti un balaur nic curajos, nu?" _[Romanian for: You are a brave little dragon, no?]_ Charlie murmured into his hair, and Harry let the soothing tone wash over him, not worried about what the words meant.

He finally nudged Charlie's arms away and stepped reluctantly away from the other man's warmth.

"Come on, we're almost there." He strode hastily through the gate before he could lose his nerve, and did his best to ignore the wave of relief that washed over him when nothing stepped out from behind a headstone to disturb the calm summer afternoon. He hesitated at one of the graves, biting his lip and glancing nervously at Charlie who was once again quietly following him. With a shrug that he hoped said "whatever, I don't care what you think" but probably said "please don't judge me," Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a smooth grey pebble with streaks of gold running through it like lightning. He set it down in front of the headstone, where there was already a decent-sized collection of pretty stones, rough little carvings, and other trinkets. Charlie's eyes widened in understanding, but he didn't comment as Harry turned and walked towards the trees at the far end of the cemetery.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie watched Harry walking away stiffly, his mind racing even as he fought to keep his expression neutral. His heart had melted when he recognized the stranger's grave from Harry's story, and realized the boy had continued paying his respects to the site through all these years.

Harry walked confidently into the trees, Charlie following with just a bit more apprehension, but he needn't have worried; not ten paces in the ground cleared and Harry stopped, a small smile on his face. Charlie stepped up next to him, looking around at what had been the happiest place in the other's childhood.

An overturned crate sat between two small logs, a makeshift table and chairs. There were pictures carved into the trunks of trees bordering the clearing; lopsided stars and stick figures clearly created by a very young Harry, all the way to an intricate depiction of a Gryffindor lion and a life-size carving of a quidditch snitch, both obviously added since Harry started Hogwarts. Hanging from a long branch jutting out almost to the center of the clearing was a long rope. Harry had tied knots at various heights and Charlie could just imagine a tousle-haired, green-eyed little boy in baggy clothes climbing and swinging on the rope, joyful laughter echoing through the silence and making the shady clearing seem bright and free.

With a sly grin at Harry that had him quickly checking his surroundings for traps (he had learned _something_ from four years with the twins as his friends, after all), Charlie sprinted for the rope, flinging himself at it and letting out a sound like a howling wolf as he swung back and forth. Harry seemed frozen in shock for a moment, but then his face lit up in an ear-splitting grin and his laughter filled the air, just as the red-head imagined it would.

Charlie hopped off the rope, stumbling a bit before he gained his footing, and then leaning heavily against a large tree, trying to catch his breath from his laughter. Harry suddenly dashed past him, hoisting himself high onto the rope at a run. As effortlessly as crossing the street, Harry wound his legs snug onto the rope and in a move that made Charlie's heart skip a beat, dropped his hands and let his entire upper body fall back. Charlie had lunged forward instinctively as Harry was falling, but soon stepped back carefully. Watching him now, eyes closed and face bright with pure joy, arms held straight out to his sides like he was flying and swinging back and forth without a care in the world, Charlie somehow knew he was seeing a side of The-Boy-Who-Lived whom many of his closest friends would hardly recognize.

As the rope slowed to a stand-still, Harry effortlessly swung his body upright once more and lowered himself to the ground. Charlie filed away both the very impressive image and the appealing fantasies of what his muscles must have looked like while doing it for later. As reluctant as he was to end the rare care-free moment in Harry's life, he knew it was more important right then to tend to Harry's injuries. Harry must have sensed the change in mood, because he sobered immediately and allowed Charlie to lead him over to the stand-in table and lay him over it while he kneeled beside it and began pulling things out of his bag.

XxXxXxXxX

It had taken Charlie over an hour to heal the worst of the burns, and he knew there would still be faint scarring in several places. Harry had fought him on the healing charm as soon as he realized the red-head would have to experience the pain of the injury in order to mend it. He had explained that it was just the sensation of the injury, no actual harm would be done to his body, but this didn't seem to do much to reassure the younger boy. In the end, Charlie had had to site the promise he made to the twins to help with the burn, and even then Harry had allowed the spell reluctantly at best.

Progress had been infuriatingly slow, but he refused to rush the process, knowing that Harry was already likely to have permanently lost sensation in some of his nerves. They were both out of breath and drenched in sweat from exertion by the end; burns did not heal easily.

Charlie had stopped Harry from standing right away, instead picking up a soothing salve that would seep into the muscle and bones themselves easing any discomfort. He may have spent more time than strictly necessary rubbing the slick balm into shoulders, neck, and back. He tried to tell himself he was just being thorough and trying to help the boy as much as possible, but that didn't explain why he had spent a good five minutes smoothing the comforting lotion onto Harry's upper arms alone. His fingertips had explored every curve and divot, and even now, hours later and hundreds of miles away in Romania, he swore he could still feel the slide and pull of muscle under warm, silky skin.

Eventually he pulled himself away from the enticing body stretched out so invitingly in front of him. _Fourteen, fourteen, baby brother's best mate, so going to hell you sick bastard, but Merlin he's hot... _He really did have to get back to his dragons, and he didn't want to imagine what would happen if Harry wasn't back in time to make dinner for the Dursleys.

Charlie sighed heavily, rubbing his temples to relieve the headache that had developed since Erol, the family owl, arrived twenty minutes earlier with a letter from his father.

**Charlie,**

**I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to talk to you this morning. I gather Molly tracked you down. Your mother can be- well, you know how she can be, but she is just watching out for you, in her own way.**

**I know your work with the dragons is important to you. I won't insult you by pretending to understand just what the appeal is... of all my children, I think it has always been you whom I understood the least. I'm sorry for that, Charlie.**

**Is there something bothering you? Trouble at work, or a girl maybe? I love you son, I am always here for you, I hope you know that.**

**As for your assignment... I've always taught you to do the right thing, I know you'll make the best decision. I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't be asking you to do this if he didn't feel it necessary.**

**I'm proud of you, son.**

**Love,**

**Dad**

Charlie amused himself a moment, imagining the letter he'd like to write in reply: "Hey dad, thanks for the letter. Mum can be a right bitch, and we both know it. The appeal of the dragons? Originally, to get as far away from you lot as possible. I mean really, going off to work with bloody dragons just days out of Hogwarts? I figured it was a bloody death wish, I just couldn't bring myself to care at that point. And no, you really haven't ever understood me. Not that I'm gay, not that I'm not content to be a pawn in Dumbledore's little game, not that I wished all through school that the sorting hat had placed me in Slytherin so at least I had a reason to feel like I was all alone in our family; like I just didn't quite fit. And the headmaster? He can kiss my freckled ass." Charlie snorted. Yeah, that letter would go over swell with the head of the Weasley family. Instead, he thought another moment then pulled a piece of parchment and a quill towards him.

**Dad-**

**Thanks for the letter. I know mum was just doing what she thought was best, as always. Please don't worry about it. And you've always been there for me. For all of us, you both have. I love you too.**

**I am truly doing my best to complete my task for Dumbledore, don't allow our disagreement at the meeting to tell you otherwise. Maybe I can help you understand my behavior last night and my commitment to my dragons in the same way: When I was little and the twins were born, you and mum were so frazzled. You already had three of us running around causing mischief, and twins are so rare in the wizarding world, you hadn't been prepared for two new babies to show up at once. Bill tried to help, but he was just a little tyke himself and he was busy enough keeping Percy and i from killing each other - I suppose in those days we got along about as well as Ron does with Fred and George now. One night the twins started wailing bloody murder after mum had put them to bed. She was at her wits' end, and insisted no one go in to quiet them; she said if any of us were to get any sleep, they had to learn to comfort themselves. It wasn't the wrong decision, she had three other children to look out for. But something felt off to me, and after a minute I couldn't take it; I ran up to their room and bust in.**

**You came up after me a minute later, and found me standing by the window, a dead rattlesnake on the floor in front of me. The twins had stopped crying but you swept me into your arms and held me so tight, and I couldn't stop sobbing. When you finally calmed me down you looked me in the eye and told me you were proud of me. It's the first time I can remember you saying it. You said I had done the right thing, and I had taken care of my brothers when they couldn't take care of themselves. I wanted to know if that meant mum was wrong when she said we shouldn't come in. Do you remember what you told me? "Charlie, mum's job is to take care of her whole family, no matter what. She was doing her job tonight. But your job is to be a big brother and look out for the babies. No matter what anyone else says, never stop doing that job." I've never forgotten that dad, and I've never stopped.**

**Dumbledore and everyone else in that room are there to protect the wizarding world; that's their job. I am the only one there whose job it is to protect the dragons and their handlers. It is _my_ job to make sure that while we're protecting everyone else from them, we don't forget to protect them from everyone else. And they can't do that for themselves. No matter what anyone says, I will never stop doing my job.**

**I hope you're still proud of me, dad.**

**Love,**

**Charlie**

Charlie read the letter over once more and decided it was his best shot. He folded it over and addressed it to "_Arthur Weasley, 12 Grimmauld Place,"_ but hesitated before giving it to the increasingly impatient Erol. He quickly grabbed a second piece of parchment.

**I was able to see the little dragon we talked about. He's quite the spitfire. I healed most of his injuries, but he seems to attract trouble, and I worry about him out on the reserve with no supervision. He's such a resilient little guy; I can only hope the world doesn't stamp his love of life out of him. It's too bad he doesn't have other little dragons to play with.**

**I love you, little brothers. Thank you for trusting me to talk to when something was bothering you. You can always count on me to be there for you.**

**-Charlie**

He addressed the second letter to _"Gred and Forge Weasley, 12 Grimmauld Place,"_ and watched Erol wearily as he flew off with both letters. With the Order monitoring all mail in and out of headquarters, he had to trust the twins to understand everything he had tried to tell them about Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

**[WARNING: Chapter contains some male x male action; don't like don't read.]**

~ Chapter Four ~

"Oops," twin voices muttered just before an explosion shook the walls of an upstairs bedroom in Grimmauld Place. Fred and George cautiously crept out from behind the barricade of furniture they had arranged at the front of the room after their first less-than-successful trial two days earlier. Since reading Charlie's letter, they had been determined to find a way to keep in touch with Harry. Their brother was right, the younger boy shouldn't be so cut off from the rest of the world. Ironically, it was their mother who had ultimately inspired this latest round of experimenting.

She and Ginny had been sniping at each other again; this time, as far as the twins could tell, because of a charmed diary that Ginny had asked for as a birthday gift.

_"...But mum, it's just a charm! The diary picks up on your mood and writes back little comments like a friend would if you were passing notes in class. It's completely harmless, and-!"_

_"Ginerva Weasley! I would have thought you'd learned your lesson about inanimate objects writing back to you of their own accord!"_

_"That's not fair, it's not the same!"_

_"The answer is no, I won't hear another word about it! Now go and find Hermione, you girls can help me with dinner..."_

The twins grimaced as their most recent explosion brought the sound of their mother's shrieking floating up from the kitchen, mixed in with Sirius's barking laughter and soon followed by Mrs. Black's screams. They had their usual privacy charms in place, but for some reason while the doors and walls of the Black house were easy to silence, the floors and ceilings were particularly resistant.

"Well that sounds..."

"...cheery!"

"Looks like we'll get..."

"...one last shot." They quickly vanished the flurry of ashes and charred scraps of paper that until minutes ago had been a piece of parchment. Placing a new one in the tray of potion laid out in the middle of the floor, the twins effortlessly cast a series of charms and spells around each other, weaving their magic together like a complex dance. Holding their final charms suspended above the tray, they backed carefully towards their charred dressers and mattresses.

"One..."

"...Two..."

"Three!" As one, they released their spells and dove behind the barricade once more. Twin sets of eyebrows rose in surprise when no explosion followed, and they slowly grinned at each other. Downstairs, Mrs. Black's portrait stopped screaming.

"Did it..."

"...work? No idea."

"Do we try the journals?"

"Well, it didn't explode this time..."

"...and mum's on her way up..."

"...so I guess we've no choice in the matter." Scrambling to over to the other side of the room, Fred and George quickly reset the experiment, this time carefully placing three leather-bound journals side-by-side into the solution. They grimaced as they sensed someone outside their door trying to break through their wards, but didn't pause in their work.

"Here goes..."

"...nothing!" And with one last nod to each other, they let their final charms drop onto the potion. They held their breath and watched as the concoction bubbled and shimmered, the tray starting to rattle against the floor and drops of the brew sloshing over the edges. Then, suddenly, everything stopped. The potion flashed brightly, then seemed to be soaked into the journals. They appeared to shine for a moment, then faded immediately back to being plain, slightly beat-up leather journals.

"Do you think...?"

"I don't know." There was a loud crash outside the door and the boys sprang into action. George began incinerating all their notes with his wand, clattering anything within reach onto the floor as he did to disguise the _crack_ as Fred disapparated with the journals. He reappeared empty-handed moments later just as his brother finished up, and both boys turned as one towards their bedroom door as a frighteningly livid and narrow-eyed Molly Weasley burst through.

"GEORGE AND FEDERICK WEASLEY, YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HERE!"

XxXxXxXxX

Meanwhile at Privet Drive, Harry Potter was having troubles of his own.

"Don't lie to me boy!" Uncle Vernon hissed dangerously, face purple with rage.

"I'm not lying, I haven't done any magic!"

"DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID?!" Vernon roared. Harry wisely chose not to answer.

"Your back was red as a tomato not two days ago, and now you look as though you've just gone tanning for a spell!"

"You're mad at me because my sunburn healed?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He knew asking questions was the surest way to flare up his Uncle's temper but even after a lifetime stuck living with the Dursleys they still managed to shock him with their special brand of cruelty.

"DON'T ASK QUESTIONS BOY!" Vernon responded predictably. "You ungrateful little brat. After all your Aunt and I have done for you; taking you in, feeding you, clothing you, giving you Dudders' second bedroom, all out of the goodness of our hearts... And how do you repay us? Sneaking around breaking into our home while we're out, doing your freakish magic, _lying_ to us. You're just like your no-good parents. You should have died in that explosion right along with them; that would have done the world some good!" He had been bearing down on Harry as he shouted, and finally lunged forward, grabbing the slender boy in his meaty hands and shaking him roughly.

Hedwig, who had been growing increasingly agitated, let out a piercing screech and began rustling frantically in her cage, trying to get out and help her young owner.

"AND I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THAT RUDDY OWL!" Harry landed in a painful heap on the floor as Vernon shoved him to the side and strode to the dresser. With a swipe of his arm, Hedwig's cage went crashing into the wall before clattering to the floor among her panicked cries.

"No! You're hurting her!" Before he could think about what he was about to do, Harry sprang off the floor and darted forward, throwing himself at his Uncle even as the large man lifted a leg aiming a kick at the cage. Harry's arms closed around Vernon's waist, the force of the tackle knocking him off balance and both men falling on the floor in a heap of tangled limbs.

Harry scrambled out of his Uncles reach as soon as possible (though not before a well-placed kick landed in his ribs), and knelt between Hedwig and the heaving man, eyes wide with terror. Never before had he laid a hand on any of his relatives, not even Dudley, and he couldn't begin to imagine what the punishment would be for such a dire offense.

As his uncle sluggishly caught his breath and stumbled to his feet, a wicked gleam came to his eyes and he slowly grinned at boy and owl. Harry felt his heart freeze in his chest with dread, and when Vernon spoke in a deadly whisper, it seemed to his nephew that the words echoed off the walls like canon shots.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Potter." His name was spit out as though it was actually painful to speak, and a distant part of Harry's mind acknowledged that even Snape would have been impressed. "I'll teach you your place yet, boy. Your Aunt and I gave our word to take you in, so you'll stay and you'll be fed, but only where I can watch every bite you take. Don't think I didn't know you were stealing our food for that filthy animal of yours. Well, we'll just see how high and mighty you are while you watch the blasted bird starve. We never promised to take in your pets." With a final evil smirk, Vernon backed out of the room, shutting it behind him and sliding the lock into place with an ominous _click_. Harry delicately lifted Hedwig's cage upright, holding it cradled against his skinny body and giving into the tears.

The habitants of Privet Drive would talk for weeks about the day that snakes crawled out of every shed and garden, raising their necks to hiss into the summer air in a sorrowful salute before disappearing once more to the safety of their tunnels. The dark-haired boy shaking with sobs in the smallest bedroom of number 4 was completely unaware.

XxXxXxXxX

George lay with his head on his twin's chest, arm wrapped loosely around his taut stomach. The steady rise and fall of Fred's even breathing combined with the soft thumping of his heartbeat to create a peaceful harmony which had comforted George since before he was born. Long fingers began to card soothingly through his bangs and he burrowed closer to his brother, breathing in the scent that was unique to his other half.

Fred felt himself settle and his shoulders relax as he watched the silky red strands of his brother's hair slide through his fingers. He wondered who had started this consoling ritual; had George turned to him in the cradle they shared as infants, searching for a reassuring embrace in a moment of uncertainty? Or had he himself started it, wrapping himself around his twin, basking in the feeling of being wanted and needed to settle his own fears?

Fred tried to imagine what his life would be like if he had been born alone, as his parents had expected, and his breath hitched, hands tightening instinctively where they held his twin. George hummed questioningly, lifting his head to meet Fred's eyes, who just shook his head, unwilling even to speak his thoughts out loud. But then, George had never needed him to. Pulling himself more fully onto his brother, George sighed as their mouths met and happily parted his lips to let Fred's tongue in.

As it often had since they had begun exploring this new side of their relationship at the start of summer, the sheer magnitude of the emotions swirling around them quickly became overwhelming. They broke the kiss, hands reaching for each other and fingers interlocking as they pressed their foreheads together, eyes squeezed shut as they willed their breathing to even out once more. George rolled heavily off his brother, each of them adjusting so that they maintained as much contact as possible even as they lay beside each other on their backs.

"So..." Fred began when the silence had stretched on long enough.

"Mum's not happy with us." Fred squeezed his brother's hand reassuringly, but George just squeezed back and shook his head. "No, it was worth it."

"If the journals even work." Fred muttered morosely, and he felt George watching him from the corners of his eyes.

"I think it was worth it either way," he whispered. "I'd do it all over again if I thought it might help Harry." Fred felt his brother shifting away uncertainly and quickly pulled their joined hands up to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to his brother's fingers.

"Me too."

They were quiet then, not needing to talk to know they were both thinking back to the scene with their mother earlier that day.

_Mrs. Weasley's face had gone deathly pale as she took in the state of the room. Dressers and wardrobes were overturned and cracked in several places from the impact of the explosions. Both mattresses were charred almost beyond recognition, and one set of sheets was in tatters after Fred had had to use it to beat down flames when a wall had briefly caught on fire. In her fury, she seemed to tower over her sons despite their extra height._

_"What. Have. You. Done," she demanded, voice eerily low and even._

_"Well you see-" "We were just-" Both twins rushed to explain but were cut off abruptly as their mother spun toward them furiously._

_"Not. Another. Word," she growled. Then with a wide sweep of her wand she began summoning all their remaining experiments. "Accio potions! Accio charmed objects! Accio trick candy! Accio prank creations! Accio notes and plans!" Fred made a grab for the last of their extendable ears as they went zooming past, but George pulled him back, shaking his head warningly at his brother._

_Just as their mother seemed to have exhausted her list of forbidden items, Sirius appeared over her shoulder._

_"Now Molly, we just got the old hag to shut up again, all your shouting is going to..." He trailed off and his eyes grew comically wide as he took in the state of the room ,and then the large heap of contraband in front of her. He whistled, a twinkle of amusement coming back to his eyes._

_"You boys want to do my mum's room next?" He invited eagerly._

_Unfortunately, this seemed to be the last straw for Mrs. Weasley. Pointing her wand at the pile of sweets and inventions in front of her, she drew herself to her tallest height and spoke a single word, her voice deathly calm: "Incendio!"_

_This time it was George who leapt forward, and Fred who wrapped his arms around his twin holding him back from the column of flames._

_"NO!" He sobbed harshly, pulling against Fred's hold as tears fell fast down his cheeks._

_"Bloody hell Molly," Sirius whispered, all the blood having instantaneously drained from his face as he stared at the pile of ashes in horror. She turned briskly and walked past him without a word. She paused outside the door just long enough to look over her shoulder and tell her sons,_

_"I expect this mess to be cleaned up by morning." Then she was gone._

_"George!" Fred choked out, arms tightening around his brother and face burrowing into the other boy's neck as he let his own tears escape._

_"Come on boys, step out. No, eyes on me; that's it, just a few more steps." The twins barely registered Sirius's soft words. They blinked at each other in surprise when they finally realized that they were standing in the hallway outside of their bedroom._

_"We have to..."_

_"...mum said..."_

_"...the mess..." Neither of them seemed capable of full thoughts just yet._

_"No." They jumped at Sirius's harsh tone, and he carefully softened his voice before continuing. "No, I'll take care of it, you just go." He held up his hand before either boy could argue. "She may be your mother, but this is my house. You've been through enough today. Go to my room, lay down. I've got this." They nodded dazedly, then turned down the hall, heads hanging in defeat._

_"Fred, George." Sirius sighed as they looked at him, eyes dull and red, tears still glistening on their faces. "I'm sorry."_

"It's all gone, Fred. All our work, years of it. She burned all our notes, it's... gone." George's breath hitched, and Fred turned onto his side facing his brother, head propped up on his hand. He brushed a stray tear from his twin's face tenderly and whispered,

"Not all of it Georgie." Pulling his wand from his pocket, Fred disapparated. Moments later, he reappeared at the bottom of the bed, the journals held almost reverently in his arms.

"We don't even know if they work," George said, but his twin recognized the hope in his eyes.

"So, let's find out." He opened each journal, laying them side by side on Sirius's bed before raising his wand.

"Accio quill." There was a soft rustle from a desk in the corner of the room, then a quill came sailing toward them and Fred caught it easily. "Care to do the honors?" He asked grinning, and held the pen out to George.

He took it slowly, twirling it around in his fingers a few times before squaring his shoulders and leaning over the closest book. _Hello_, he wrote, taking a deep breath when nothing happened besides the ink drying on the page.

"Well," he said, "this is either very good.."

"...or very bad." Fred finished. George nodded at him, then leaned over once more. _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_, he wrote this time, and as the ink dried, the journal glowed briefly before both messages faded slightly on the page. The other journals lay still and unchanged.

"Okaaaay," George muttered, dragging the word out as his forehead creased in confusion. "And what does that mean?" His brother shrugged, just as bewildered.

"Write something else." George nodded and scribbled _Abra-Cadabra!_ Fred just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the ridiculous muggle "magic word," in favor of watching the journals intently. After a moment, however, it was obvious that the only thing they were watching was drying ink.

"Oh well." George whispered, trying not to let the disappointment come through in his voice. Suddenly, Fred's eyes widened and he grinned.

"Oh give me that!" He snapped impatiently, snatching the quill from his brother's hand and re-writing the activation phrase on the second and third journal: _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._ Each journal glowed briefly in turn, and then almost immediately an invisible George seemed to be writing _Hello, Abra-Cadabra! _on both pages. Their eyes met gleefully and George snatched the quill back from his twin. _Mischief Managed_, he wrote below the message in one of the journals, and with another glow the journal went blank. He handed the quill to the other boy. _Fred and George are geniuses_, he wrote in one of the other books, watching as the message appeared on both of them. He then quickly re-activated the final journal and beamed as the message appeared there as well.

With a joyful shout, George tackled his twin in a bone-crushing hug, sending them both rolling off the bed to land in a heap on the floor. Their laughter filled the room as they wrestled around on the wood floor, poking sides and tickling ribs and in general basking in their victory.

Fred suddenly found himself on his back, George straddling his waist as they both fought to catch their breath in a moment of truce. He shifted his hips, trying to find a more comfortable position pinned under his brother's weight, but stilled when the movement pressed his body flush against his twin's and they both gasped in pleasure. Neither of them had noticed their growing arousals as they tumbled over each other in excitement. They were now glaringly aware, however, and Fred froze. They hadn't moved past making out yet, and the last thing he wanted to do was push this fragile bond too far too fast. He glanced up at his brother cautiously, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

George's face was flushed, his pupils so large they made his eyes nearly black. He licked his lips slowly before bracing himself on Fred's shoulders and leaning down to swallow his gasp in a demanding kiss. As their tongues met, George ground their hips together once more and Fred groaned, arms wrapping around his brother to pull him closer. Their bodies continued to move together, as seamlessly in sync in this as they had been in everything since birth. Fred let his hands glide over his twin's back, pausing for several moments to toy with the warm strip of skin right above his pants which his shirt had fallen forward to reveal. Then, with only a moment's hesitation, he reached lower, fingers sliding into pockets and kneading the firm muscle of his brother's ass for the first time as he pressed their bodies impossibly nearer.

"Fred!" George moaned, body snapping down against his erratically before stilling, every muscle in his body straining, and then sliding languidly onto his twin, utterly relaxed.

The mere realization that his brother had just come, _on_ him, _because of_ him, was enough to send the other red-head over the edge and he sealed their mouths together once more as his hips snapped forward in release.

"You know what this means, right?" Fred asked seriously between gasps.

"Yep," George answered. "We're going to have to buy Ginny that damn diary for her birthday."

"Exactly." They beamed at each other, Fred lifting his head to share one last tender kiss before they clumsily helped each other to their feet and began plotting their second trip to Privet Drive.

* * *

Author note:

Hello lovelies! Thank you to everyone who has posted a review or favorited/followed me or my story! This is the first time I have posted or shared my writing, so comments and advice are more than welcome. I hope you are enjoying the story! I have a bit of a head-start on the writing, so hopefully I will be able to continue posting a chapter a day until it is finished. If I ever get to the point where I need a little more time, I'll be sure to let you know! Thanks again.

-Emmette


	5. Chapter 5

~ Chapter Five ~

Harry sat up straight and still in his cupboard, ears straining to identify any noise from outside the tiny excuse for a room. He could have sworn he had heard the _click_ of a lock being opened, though it would hardly be the first time he had let wishful thinking get the best of him in the past few days. Then, almost too quick to notice, there was a faint light from the crack below his door, as though moonlight was somehow pouring into the house. A moment later it was gone, accompanied by the softest _snick_ of a closing door.

Not allowing himself even the slightest hesitation, Harry reached up to the stairs above his head and knocked as loudly as he dared. He held his breath, heart hammering in his chest so loudly he thought it a wonder the Dursley's hadn't woken upstairs. When nothing happened, he stubbornly blinked back tears and raised his hand once more, tapping out a rhythm just a fraction louder than the last time. _Tap, tap, ta-tap, tap_. This time he was sure he heard movement from outside and just as he was about to try one last time, there was an answering _tap, tap_ on his door.

"Fred? George?" He whispered, beyond caring how much trouble he would be in if it was one of his relatives and not the ginger-haired twins come to check up on him once more.

"Harry?" He heard muttered in disbelief, accompanied by the light tinkling of a lock being picked. His entire body began to tremble, days of pent-up fear and desperation finally being released with the knowledge that he could save Hedwig.

The door swung open quickly and Harry threw himself at the nearest twin, clinging to him with all his strength, his shoulders shaking harshly with silent tears as four arms wrapped securely around him.

"Blimey, Harry..."

"...what happened?" They whispered, never loosening their grip on their distressed friend. He just shook his head, not yet trusting himself to speak without crying in earnest and bringing the Dursleys thundering down to investigate.

"Shhh, okay. Whenever you're ready Harry," Fred told him, rubbing his back.

"No rush," George added, wrapping one arm around the thin boy's waist and reaching blindly for his brother's hand with the other.

"We're not going anywhere," they finished together, and settled down on the floor of the Dursley's front hallway to wait patiently for Harry to calm down. It was not a side to the twins that most would recognize.

Gradually, the tremors died off and quiet, even breathing was once again the only sound in the house. Harry sat up, gently pulling away from the red-heads' hold. They subtly let go of hands and adjusted slightly so that they were both facing the raven-haired boy. Harry ducked into his cupboard, swiping quickly at his eyes while his back was turned as though even after crying in their arms, he had to erase any evidence of tears left behind. Fred and George looked at each other, heads tilting and eyebrows quirking as they tried to decide how to respond. Before they had the chance, however, Harry had reappeared in the doorway with Hedwig's cage in his arms and his next words shocking them into silence.

"You have to take her."

XxXxXxXxX

Two hours later, Fred and George lay side by side in the grass of the park at the end of Privet Drive. They rested on their backs, hands behind their heads and hearts going out to the snowy owl who trilled sorrowfully into the night air, sad eyes gazing towards where she knew a slender boy lay curled in a ball in a dark cupboard, as good as alone in the world at that moment.

In unspoken agreement, they didn't reach for each other to comfort one another with touch. It seemed wrong, somehow, when they both knew now that a simple hug was a luxury to the boy down the road. It had been one shock after another all night, starting with Harry giving them the first creature he had ever loved.

_"You have to take her," he told them, an urgency to his voice that had cold knots in both their stomachs._

_"Are you..."_

_"...barking mad?"_

_"Ignoring for the moment that you're locked in a closet..."_

_"...and trust us, we'll come back to that..."_

_"...why in Merlin's name would you want us to take Hedwig?"_

_"Because," Harry whispered, fingers gently stroking the soft feathers of his owl through the bars of her cage, "she'll die if she stays here."_

Fred jumped as his brother swore violently from beside him and slammed his fist into the ground.

"Hey," he murmured questioningly, turning to look at him with concern.

"We just left him there!" George growled, pain clear in his voice.

"We couldn't do anything else, he'd probably still be there even if he'd let us tell someone else, which he doesn't want, and even then we'd have had to leave him there for now."

"We locked him in a flipping closet, Fred. We're supposed to be helping him!"

"We are!" Fred shouted, before slumping miserably against the ground. "We are," he repeated softly. He understood exactly where his twin's guilt was coming from; he hadn't been any more prepared for the glimpse into Harry's life they caught that night.

_"Hang on," George interrupted yet again. They had all somehow managed to arrange themselves cross-legged in the space beneath the stairs, pulling the door shut behind them as an extra sound barrier between the Dursleys and their hushed voices. The pitch black had made it more difficult to catch when Harry was tip-toeing around the truth, his tendency to down-play all his problems always clear from his expressions. On the other hand, it created the perfect cover for the brothers to once again lace their fingers together, and neither was about to turn down the contact. "So all of this started because your uncle was mad at you for using magic..."_

_"...which we know you didn't do, as you're not currently being expelled-"_

_"-or arrested-"_

_"-or beheaded, whatever the ministry's cup of tea is with you at the moment?" they asked, in their typical long-winded fashion._

_"Yeah," Harry told them simply, like that wasn't a totally legitimate reason to rant and rave and curse the world for the sheer unfairness of it all._

_"Then why was he so sure..."_

_"...you had done magic in the first place?" The silence that followed definitely stretched on for too long._

_"C'mon mate..." George encouraged._

_"...we're trying to understand all of this..."_

_"...but you've been living with the evil git all your life..."_

_"...and we've only met the bloke once..."_

_"...not much of a first impression, we might add..."_

_"...so we're maybe being a little slow putting all the pieces together here." Fred finished for them. This time there was only a slight pause before Harry sighed and answered them._

_"A couple days after Charlie was here, Aunt Petunia came out while I was working in the garden..."_

_"...and your back was healed." Fred filled in with disgust, knowing from the quiet gasp and sudden death grip on his hand that his brother had connected the dots at the same time. _

_"That sick bastard was pissed because the skin wasn't blistering off your back anymore?!" George asked in disbelief, clearly unable to fathom such cruelty from a relative. Harry didn't answer, having been nearly as shocked as the twins despite years of living with his Uncle. But then, he didn't have to. His silence was confirmation enough._

_"Harry, are you sure you don't want to tell anyone...?" He was cut off before he even finished his sentence._

_"No, Fred, we've talked about this," he said tiredly._

_"Right, but you haven't slept in three days..." Fred tried again, filing away for later that Harry had known which twin had spoken, and in the pitch darkness no less._

_"Only because I was worried about Hedwig," Harry tried to reason._

_"After your dear Uncle told you that you were going to watch her die a slow and painful death," George countered flatly._

_"And you're locked in a closet." Fred finished carefully, like reminding Harry of this fact might be the last straw and break through the younger boy's incredible resilience. When the statement was met only by bitter laughter, the dark didn't stop the twins from knowing they would be showing matching expressions of astonishment mixed with a dash of oh-shit-I-think-he's-finally-lost-it._

_Harry either sensed his friends' unease or realized he needed to tell someone what he'd lived through as much as the others needed to understand._

_"My cupboard?" He asked with false cheer. "This is where I lived for ten 'wonderful' years."_

Fred shook himself from the memory, watching his other half with concern; George had gone from punching the ground to pacing agitatedly. It wasn't that he hurt more or that his twin cared less, George had simply always been the one of them to voice all their doubts, fears, and guilt where Fred would be the voice of reason, clinging to the _why_ of their decisions rather than the _what_ and convincing them both systematically that they had done the right thing.

"Yes," Fred said sadly, remembering exactly what had his brother so shaken. "We locked him back in the cupboard." George flinched, and at last Fred stood and reached for him. "We held him while he cried, we listened to him, we helped him in the only way he wanted and took his owl. We gave him the journal and showed him how it worked, and we sat with him until he fell asleep for the first time in days. THEN we locked him back in his cupboard, so when his shithead uncle wakes up in the morning, he won't think Harry used his 'evil freakish magic' to unlock the padlock hanging outside the door." He raised his hands to frame his twin's face and leaned in to press their lips together gently.

"Thanks," George sighed, leaning forward so that they were holding each other upright in a loose hug.

"Mmmhmm," Fred hummed tiredly.

"You know, I've seen you more emotional in the last week than most people have in your entire lifetime. You going soft on me Weasley?" The words had hardly left his lips when there was a hushed murmur and said lips parted in shock to reveal the exceptionally long tongue of an anteater. His eyes widened in shock for just a moment before he threw his head back, mouth opened wide and tongue hanging out obscenely in his laughter.

"Bite your tongue!" Fred admonished, quite proud of himself for the cleverness of his own pun. "Going soft my ass," he added smugly, but there was a tender look behind the twinkle in his eye as he lifted his wand and quickly cast the counter-spell.

"Isn't it though?" George cooed sweetly. Too sweetly, as it turned out, for no sooner had the mischievous twinkle appeared in his own eyes than Fred jumped and squealed, reaching behind him to feel a fluffy rabbit tail protruding out of the waistband of his pants; quite the soft ass indeed.

"Touché, dear brother," he grinned, and summoned Hedwig's cage while George returned the rear of his anatomy to its original human state.

"Sorry, birdie..." Fred said to the regal owl, earning himself an irritated hoot and a reproachful look.

"...but it's for your own good," George agreed, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with his twin. They raised their wands and with identical flicks and as a single voice transfigured bird and cage into a gleaming ivory pen, her last indignant _hoot_ echoing through the park.

"Dibs on NOT changing her back at headquarters." They said together with a shudder, sharing a wince.

"Well..." George began.

"...I suppose we'd best be heading back." Fred finished for him. He delicately picked up the pen, sliding it gently into the inside pocket of his cloak before holding his arms open for Fred to step into them.

"I love you," he whispered, hands sliding easily into his brother's back pockets and lips brushing his with every word.

"I love you, t-" George started, but was cut off when his twin pressed their mouths more firmly together and sucked his brother's lower lip into his mouth, nibbling playfully. They both moaned, fumbling for their wands, kiss deepening even as they apparated with a barely audible crack to the street in front of Grimmauld Place.

"Step. Away. From each other. NOW!" The blood froze in their veins and when they separated, both their faces were deathly pale as they turned to face their mother.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie stumbled through the door of his small, one-bedroom hut at the edge of the reserve. He had been pushing himself for days, ever since returning to Romania. If there was a dragon acting out or a particularly difficult task to be done, he was the first to volunteer. Listening to the long series of cracks and pops in his back as he stretched his arms above his head, he had to admit that the added strain was catching up to him. Still, throwing himself into his work had always been a sure way to distract him from troubling thoughts, and he had hoped to push all traces of Harry from his mind by sheer force of will. It appeared that he would have no such luck this time.

Charlie knew that most of the Weasley family saw the small, dark-haired boy as a pseudo-brother or son, but he had never been around enough to form such an attachment of his own. Still, he couldn't deny a fondness for the little spitfire that had always before been reserved for Fred and George alone.

He had heard from his family that they had met THE Harry Potter at King's Cross Station nearly four years ago. He didn't meet him himself, though, until the night he had flown onto Hogwarts grounds to retrieve a young Norwegian Ridgeback.

_Where Hermione had stood huddled against the wall of the tower, watching the young dragon wearily from as far away as possible, Harry had been the picture of calm, shoulders relaxed, face turned towards the stars as he savored the cool night air. _

_Charlie remembered how the adrenalin had hammered through his body as soon as he was close enough to take in the size of the dragon sitting caged not two feet away from the young wizard. In his letter, Ron had made it sound like they would be picking up a new hatchling. This, though, was a dragon who could easily engulf half the small boy's body in flames with a single move. _

_Charlie's only hope was that he and the other handlers could get close enough to cast their stunning hexes before it was too late. He was amazed, then, when Harry nodded to them before turning to the cage and placing a slender hand on a bar not six inches from the ridgeback's mouth. He seemed to be talking to him, trying to sooth and reassure the anxious reptile, and even more shocking was the way the dragon tilted his head quizzically, watching Harry as though he understood what was being said to him. Charlie had been impressed…_

_He had heard rumors about the events later that year, hushed bits of conversations between his parents as they glanced at Ron out of the corners of their eyes that summer; mentions of the Sorcerer's Stone, you-know-who, mirrors and a chess game; but it died off soon. And honestly, he wasn't home enough to be in the loop. _

_Then came the morning he was woken by his mother's shouting._

"…_you thinking?!... could've died… bars on YOUR window, Ronald Weasly!" It had taken a while, but he had finally cornered the twins and gotten the full story of the flying-car, Harry-Potter-rescue-mission. He watched the boy that day, noting the way he would tense ever-so-slightly whenever a voice was raised, and the way he carefully asked a question, always seeming poised to flee when someone opened their mouth to answer. He had a difficult time fitting this boy with the dare-devil quidditch protégé who had starred in all his littler brothers' stories that summer, much to Ginny's fascination. Charlie had been intrigued…_

An urgent knock at his door caught him off guard, and he turned towards it, puzzled. The knock returned, louder this time, and he was shocked to hear his big brother's voice.

"Charlie? C'mon Charlie, open up!" He scrambled to do just that, stomach churning with dread. Only twice before had his brother shown up at the reserve. The first time shortly after he had started the job. Their mother had been hysterical from the moment he told her he was leaving. Bill had known to back off at first, give his brother some space, but eventually his worry won out and he had come looking for an explanation. There had been arguing and shouting, and after a particularly harsh comment from the older boy, Charlie had snapped.

_"I will NEVER belong at the burrow! I never HAVE Bill! I'm not like the rest of you, okay? Just go. Go home and tell mum she's not going to change my mind."_

_"How can you say that? We love you Charlie. I love you," he emphasized, reaching out to tap his little brother's nose the way he had always done when they were little, and still did when Charlie was particularly upset. The affectionate gesture was more than he could take, and he lashed out without thinking, desperate to keep from crying._

_"Billy, I'm gay!" It was enough to shock his brother into silence, and Charlie turned away, unable to face the disgust and condemnation he was sure would be in Bill's expression. A strong hand settled firmly on his shoulder, and after a short pause, slid down to his waist as sturdy arms pulled him back against his brother's chest, hugging him tightly._

_"Like I said; I love you."_

Bill had tried to convince him to be honest with his parents, but dropped it when even he admitted to being concerned about what Molly's reaction would be. Magically speaking, it was possible for two witches or two wizards to be together, but the muggle world had nothing on the wizarding world as far as homophobia went. Being openly gay was akin to social suicide. Instead, Bill had told Charlie to be careful, and promised to work on getting their mother to back off. It had been enough for Charlie to slowly begin pulling himself out of the self-loathing, destructive slump he had fallen into since finishing school. Bill hadn't come back to Romania until almost two years later.

_"Charlie! Char, where are you?" He had been working with Norbert (the Norwegian Ridgeback yearling Hagrid had hatched in his hut the year before) deep in the reserve when Bill's frantic shouts had startled him enough for the willful young dragon to make his escape. He hardly noticed, however, instead rushing towards his brother as a cold knot of dread formed in his stomach. Turning up unannounced and venturing unsupervised into the reserve would have been cause enough for worry, but it was the use of a nickname that Charlie hadn't heard in years that told him he was not in for good news._

_"Billy, what are you doing here?"_

_"It's Ginny..." Charlie had never seen his brother weep as he had standing in Romania that day and telling him how Slytherin's monster had taken their baby sister into the Chamber of Secrets, and McGonagall wanted them to "prepare for the worst." It had taken Bill an hour to track Charlie down, and they rushed to the edge of the reserve's wards to apparate back to the burrow. There they found only a note telling them to floo to the headmaster's office. They had held each other, squeezing into the fireplace together as they hadn't since they were small children, but neither willing to arrive before or after the other. _

_"Ginny!" Bill's voice was raw with emotion as they stumbled through the floo to see their youngest sibling standing seemingly unharmed in their parents' arms. Charlie had had to look away, desperate to collect himself before he fell apart in front of his entire family. He had nearly yelped seeing Harry standing alone in the corner of the room; pale as death, covered in blood, and holding a worn book in one hand, large tooth protruding through the middle, and an elegant sword in the other. _

_"Ah yes," Dumbledore had said from the other side of the room, following Charlie's stunned gaze, "I imagine Harry will have quite the captivating stories to tell about his escapade into the Chamber to rescue your sister from the basilisk." Charlie's mouth had dropped open in shock as he stared at the twelve-year-old in disbelief. Bill, on the other hand, recovered in record time and strode purposefully to the small boy. He held his wand hand up in front of him, guiding Harry to do the same when the startled boy just blinked at him, and pressed their palms together._

_"Our family owes you a great deal, Harry Potter, for saving Ginny's life. I am in your debt." No one else in the room dared to move as their joined hands glowed with the ancient magic of a life debt pledge. Harry, looking positively baffled and uncomfortable with all the attention, blushed and looked down to let his hair fall over his eyes._

_"Uh... you're welcome." He mumbled._

Now, seeing his brother grave and out of breath in his doorway, Charlie tried to prepare himself for more horrific news.

"Bill. What happened? Who's hurt?" His wand was out and all his senses fully alert, ready to rush out the door and off to face whatever threat awaited if it meant protecting his family.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down there little brother, it's not as bad as you think." He caught Charlie's arm as he tried to barrel past him and spoke in a careful soothing tone. The look Charlie gave him was highly skeptical, but he nonetheless paused for a moment to hear his brother out. "No one's hurt or dieing, okay? I promise." He waited until Charlie nodded stiffly, then tightened his hold before he continued. "Mum called; emergency family meeting."

Correction: Charlie had been ready to rush out the door and off to face whatever threat awaited... _except_ that.

"Shit."


	6. Chapter 6

~ Chapter Six ~

Bill and Charlie let themselves into headquarters, knowing that ringing the doorbell would only result in Mrs. Black's screeching. They were almost to the kitchen when Charlie grabbed his brother's arm tightly and pressed a finger to his lips. They crept the rest of the way to the door, listening to the dispute going on inside.

"Molly, they're _of age!_ You can't just-" Sirius sounded exasperated, as though it weren't the first time he had made that particular argument, and Molly didn't sound any happier when her own shouting cut him off.

"I don't care how old they are, they will always be my children!"

"You'll always be their mother, yes, but like it or not Fred and George are adults now. As a parent it is still your job to worry and tell them when you think they're making a mistake but you can't-"

"Oh don't you tell me what I can and cannot do with my children, Sirius Black!" She interrupted once more. "You're not a parent, you wouldn't understand. Besides, this doesn't concern you, so just-"

"Don't tell me this is none of my business!" He roared, clearly tired of being the one cut off. "Don't forget whose house you're living in! I spent my entire childhood trapped in this place like a prisoner, and now I'm stuck here all over again. But I'll be damned if I stand back and watch anyone else suffer here."

"That's not your choice to make, Black."

"And it's not your choice either!"

The sound of pots and pans being violently clanged together echoed into the hall and the two boys crouching outside the door like naughty children both flinched at a particularly loud _bang_ following Sirius' last statement.

"Sounds like mum's in a right cheerful mood," Bill quipped. Charlie just grimaced and silently turned the handle, pushing the door open a crack and peering through. Their father sat at the table, head bowed and only moving to flinch at the sound of bashing cookware.

Bill, always the one to step up when their parents needed it, quickly pushed his way into the room and went to Arthur to murmur encouragement and give his father a quick hug. Then he turned to their mother, gently pulling her away from the sink and leaning down to wrap the small woman in a tight embrace.

"What is it mum?" He asked in concern. For once, Molly seemed at a loss for words. She shook her head, lips trembling and clung to her son.

"Why don't you sit down boys?" Their father suggested tiredly. Bill guided their mother to the table, pulling out a chair for her before sitting himself. Charlie started to join them, but froze when he noticed what lay in the middle of the table.

"Why are Fred and George's wands here?" He asked, voice dangerously low.

"Charlie, calm down..." His father warned from his place at the table. "Last night Molly caught the twins… Well, anyway, she decided it would be best if they didn't have access to their magic right at the moment, just until we sort this out, and—"

"Best for who?!" Charlie growled, hands balled in fists. Even Bill had gone pale, staring at Mrs. Weasley in shock. A wizard's wand was a part of them; never before had Molly even threatened such a punishment.

"Better for everyone," Arthur explained quickly. "It's a… delicate situation."

"Where are they?" Charlie demanded. When no one answered, he turned and slammed out the kitchen door. "Fred? George!" Mrs. Black's screams filled headquarters and Charlie stormed back into the kitchen as Bill strode past him with a warning frown to go deal with the portrait.

"_Accio_ Fred and George's wands!" He bellowed, the wands in question zooming from his mother's apron pocket into his outstretched hand. "You have five minutes to explain what the twins could possibly have done to deserve such a cruel punishment or I am taking them back to Romania with me and I guarantee you won't get through the wards once we're done with them." Molly looked as though she had been slapped and even Sirius and Arthur stood open-mouthed, gaping in shock at the threat.

"Char, put your wand down." Bill had run to silence the portrait, but was now watching the younger man from the doorway. No one reacted, and Bill cautiously moved toward his brother. "Charlie, _lower your wand_." There was steely authority in his voice this time, even though it hardly rose above a whisper. Charlie hesitated, and turned to look at him; fury, pain, and guilt in his eyes.

"I can't. Not until I know they're okay."

"So I'll go check on them," Bill offered quickly. Mrs. Weasley was finally regaining her passion and opened her mouth to forbid it but her eldest son cut her off with a quick look. "Charlie won't take just anyone's word that they are alright, and I'm neutral ground here. Let me go check on them. All of you," he looked pointedly at not only his mother and brother but Black as well, "separate and calm down for a little while. When you're ready to stop behaving like children we can come back and discuss this like adults." He didn't ask for approval of his plan, and slowly everyone in the room nodded their consent to him. "Brilliant. Mum, are the twins in their room?" She shook her head stiffly, clearly unhappy to be following directions from even her eldest son. "Okay, Charlie you go there and cool off. Mum, why don't you show me where Fred and George are?"

XxXxXxXxX

Bill knocked softly on the door to Fred's room. That is to say, he knocked on the faded spot of wall where Fred's door _would_ be if their mother hadn't hexed it away to keep his brother trapped inside. At first there was no response, but then a quiet voice answered.

"I'd invite you in, whoever you are, but the lack of a door is going to make that a bit tricky." The dark sarcasm in and of itself was quite in character for the twins; the flat, humorless voice it was spoken in was not, however, and had Bill flinching.

"Can I come in?" He asked gently.

"Clearly, that's up to you; you're the one with the wand." Bill sighed at the response, tugging on his earring as he only did when particularly frustrated. _Well,_ he thought to himself, _no one ever said this would be easy._ He raised his wand, unlocking the protective spells around the room so that the door appeared to let him in.

Fred was laying on the far edge of his bed, arm stretched out across the mattress as though reaching for someone who wasn't there. He looked up briefly as the door opened, but immediately returned to staring blankly at the empty side of the bed.

"Hey, mind if I sit with you?" Bill asked, gesturing to the open space. Fred didn't answer, and his brother decided to play it safe, sitting cross-legged on the floor instead.

"Mum's pretty upset with you guys," he started.

No answer.

"Dad seems sad, he said you won't talk to him?" Bill tried again.

Nothing.

"Charlie's here," he threw out desperately, hoping for any reaction. Fred glanced at him briefly, but quickly returned to his blank stare. "You finally have your own room!" Bill continued with forced cheer, determined to keep the conversation going. "That must be nice!"

"Bill," Fred snapped, barely-contained anger bubbling under the surface of his voice. "Why are you here?"

"I thought you could use someone to talk to. If you're confused, or..." He trailed off at Fred's bitter laughter, the harsh sound sounding so wrong from the normally playful boy.

"I am NOT confused," he said with certainty.

"Okay. So... are you gay then?"

"No, of course not." Bill stared.

"But I thought... you and George, you were..."

"Kissing? Yeah, I was there, I don't need the play-by-play."

"Then, you didn't like it?" Bill tried again, clearly getting more confused by the second.

"I loved it," Fred whispered seriously, the longing in his voice almost painful to listen to.

"But you just said you're not gay. How can you not be gay if you liked snogging another bloke?"

"I didn't like snogging another bloke," Fred snapped, thoroughly baffling his older brother. "I liked snogging George."

"But that's the same-!" Bill shut his eyes, visibly stopping himself from shouting and continuing with a calmer voice. "Look, I just want to help."

"If you really want to help me, then take me to George," he answered quickly. Bill wouldn't meet his eyes, and Fred nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Fred..."

"I'm tired, think I'll take a nap," the twin cut in quickly, not interested in his brother's excuses. "Thanks for all the 'help'."

Bill watched sadly as Fred rolled over in the bed, facing the wall and effectively ending the conversation.

XxXxXxXxX

Bill squared his shoulders before knocking on George's door. He had spent ten minutes sitting in the hallway outside Fred's room, hoping to collect his thoughts and calm down before trying again with the second twin.

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't open the door for you like a gentleman." Came the sarcastic response from inside. _Here goes round two_, Bill thought to himself with a grimace.

"George, it's Bill; can I come in?"

"Well I'd certainly hope so, you being a curse-breaker and all. I'd be rather concerned if mum's simple securing jinx had you stumped."

"Right," the older boy muttered, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on as he once again manipulated the vanished door to let him in. George was curled in a ball on the nearest edge of his bed, knees just hanging over the side in order to leave what Bill now suspected was a Fred-sized space behind him. Had both twins been on the same bed when he found each of them, he was certain they would have been curled perfectly together.

"Mum's pretty upset..." Bill started, but seeing the same dismissive look in this twin's eyes that had been in the other's, he quickly took a new approach. "I was just with Fred." This seemed to be the key phrase, because immediately George's eyes snapped up to lock with his. Bill let the silence hang between them until his brother broke.

"Is he okay?"

"I answer a question, you answer a question. Deal?" George narrowed his eyes, but nodded reluctantly.

"Is Fred okay?"

"About as okay as you are, I'd imagine. He's upset, seemed scared. I'm guessing he's worried about how much trouble you're both in."

"No he's not," George whispered, but shook his head at Bill's questioning look. "Never mind. Your turn."

"...Okay. When you and Fred were kissing, why did you do it?"

"Because we wanted to? We had a difficult night, and finally made each other laugh. We were happy, and we wanted to."

"Then you liked it?"

"It's not your turn," George reminded him smugly. "How far away is the room mum has him in?"

"It's just at the other end of the hall, why does it matter?"

"Is that your next question?"

"No, never mind," Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. "Did you like it? When you were snogging Fred?"

"Yes. Who else has gone to talk to him?"

"Dad tried talking to both of you, Fred wouldn't say a word to him either. George, are you...?"

"Gay? It's not a bad word Bill, you can say it out loud. And I don't think so, why does that matter?"

"Why does it matter?!" The older boy repeated incredulously. "You both kiss a bloke, tell me you like it, _then_ tell me you're not gay and somehow in all of this _I'm_ the unreasonable one?!" Bill yelled exasperatedly, letting his control slip and finally setting off his younger brother.

"You know what, I don't have the answers for you! I'm sorry you're so damn worried about having a gay brother, but that's not my problem. I'm not going to tell you what you want to hear just to make you feel better. Piss off!"

"Bloody hell," Bill cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the yelling made his growing migraine even worse. He stood then, marching out of the room and disapparating as soon as the door vanished behind him.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie paced pack and forth in the twins' old bedroom, striding to the door every few minutes just to snatch his hand back from the handle with a growl at the last moment and return to pacing. _It should be me in there talking to them,_ Charlie thought to himself. _Bill's heart is in the right place, but he'll never understand them the way I do._

He was striding purposefully towards the door once more when there was a sharp crack from behind him and he turned to see an extremely frazzled Bill slumping onto one of the beds, fingers rubbing the sides of his head as though in a great deal of pain. Despite the tension in the room, Charlie chuckled before he could stop himself.

"Having fun with the twins then, Billy?"

"Shove off," his brother snapped, but his lips twitched and his words didn't hold any venom. "How have you possibly talked down both of them _together_ all these years?"

"Ah, but there's your first mistake," Charlie told him with a twinkle in his eye, walking over to sit next to his brother and brush their shoulders together playfully.

"What is?"

"Fred and George are ten times easier to reason with when they're together. They can comfort and calm each other down better than anyone else could ever hope to." Bill watched him throughout the explanation, seeming to be considering his next move carefully.

"I haven't felt that out of my depth since Ginny got her period for the first time and I had to explain things to her because mum and dad were at St. Mungo's with Percy, getting his head deflated-"

"-after Fred and George cast that hex to make his head swell every time he bragged about himself!" Charlie finished, both boys laughing together. "Yeah, didn't envy you that responsibility… I've never been happier not to be the oldest child." He snickered, then grew serious once more.

"How bad was it? With the twins, I mean."

"Fred's not talking to me and George was shouting when I left."

"Bloody brilliant," Charlie muttered with a groan.

"Oh like you could have done better." Charlie looked at his brother in disbelief, almost missing the mischievous sparkle in the older boy's eyes.

"I couldn't possibly have done worse," he snarked back.

"Alright, let's try it your way this time," Bill said, trying to keep his voice light, but they both knew what the offer meant to Charlie, who nodded solemnly, eyes shining with gratitude.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie's face hardened when he saw the smooth wall where a bedroom door should be. Bill brushed past him lightly, offering silent support but knowing not to say anything as he dismantled the spell outside Fred's room once more. He stood back then, letting his little brother know that whatever they did next, he would follow his lead. Charlie nodded forcing a small smile for the older boy. He hadn't been happy when Bill walked him through his conversations with the twins, wincing several times when he knew they would have seen judgment and condemnation where there wasn't any.

_"Blimey, Bill, you were trying to get them to come out to you? THAT'S why you wanted to talk to them?"_

_"I remember what hiding it did to you! You were so angry, Char. You hid it well, always putting on your happy face for Fred and George and the rest of them, but I could see it. I thought I'd lost you for a while there, you pulled yourself so far away from me, even before you left for Romania. I don't want to see them going through that kind of pain!" Bill's face showed guilt, and Charlie's anger quickly drained away._

_"You couldn't have done anything differently Billy, I had to sort through it on my own. You were always there for me, especially when no one else was. It's not the same with the twins, though. They're not telling you they're not gay because they're scared, I honestly don't know if they are and it sounds as though they don't either."_

_"So they're experimenting, I get that, but they both said they liked the snogging, shouldn't that have cleared things up for them?"_

_"You asked them if they liked kissing each other?" Charlie asked, trying and failing to hold back a smirk._

_"I was trying to help!" Bill snapped, blushing and throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "They're closer than anyone I know, it's... natural, I suppose, that they would turn to each other if they were... curious about such things. I don't think they should be punished for being confused." _

_"Bill. We grew up together, and we've always been very close. I'm gay as a rainbow, and you're a nice looking bloke. The LAST thing I want to do is get in your pants. They're not confused."_

_"Bloody hell Char," Bill whimpered, all the blood draining from his face. "Don't talk like that mate!"_

Knocking briskly on the door, Charlie paused only a moment before walking into the room, not waiting for an answer. His heart clenched, seeing Fred curled up miserably on his bed, and he knew that his first priority then, as it had been since he was a child, was protecting his little brothers.

"We're doing this my way, right?" He asked Bill, seeing Fred's head snap up at his voice from the corner of his eye.

"Yes..." Bill agreed cautiously.

"Brilliant." He grabbed the older boy by the wrist, dragging him over to Fred and did the same with him. Shimmying his wand out of his pocket while holding both of them by the arms took a minute, but he figured it out and with a _crack_ took them to George's room, using a complex tracking charm that followed Bill's memory of the location.

Fred's arm yanked away from his before he had even regained his balance, the younger boy sprinting towards his twin who had leapt to his feet at the sudden appearance of the three other red-heads in his room.

"This isn't what we discussed," Bill growled in his ear, back turned to Fred and George who were clinging to each other like a lifeline. Charlie met his brother's eyes, completely unaffected by the anger he saw there.

"Have you stopped to think what being apart was doing to them? When's the last time they were apart overnight?" He raised an eyebrow angrily at Bill's silence. "How about an entire day even?" Bill was starting to catch on, and winced guiltily. "I'm willing to bet that they have not been apart for more than a handful of hours at a time in their entire lives, and even then they would know exactly where the other one was. Then yesterday mum catches them together, and at what could easily be the scariest, most vulnerable moment of their lives, they're taken away from each other. They were completely alone for the first time ever after seventeen years. I'm sure they couldn't sleep, couldn't think, could hardly breathe knowing that theirs would be the only breaths heard in the room." Bill's anger faded as Charlie spoke, and when he turned to watch Fred and George this time, his expression was thoughtful.

"Thank you," the twins whispered together, surprising their eldest brother by meeting his eyes rather than Charlie's.

"You're welcome," he answered carefully. "I really did mean it when I said I want to help. Will you try to explain what's going on to me?" They watched him almost fearfully; their eyes saying they wanted to trust him their body language saying they didn't think they could.

"You should give him a chance," Charlie told them quietly. "He was pretty great when I told him I was gay three years ago." Twin sets of eyes widened in shock, staring at their brother as though he just grown an extra head rather than come out to them. Charlie just shrugged. "I know I'm asking a lot of trust from you, it only seems fair that I trust you back. Tell him. If not for yourselves, then for me."

"You already know what we're going to say, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question, and George didn't look like he was expecting an answer, but Charlie gave him one anyway.

"Not all the details, but I think I have a pretty good idea, yeah."

"He won't understand." Fred whispered miserably.

"Maybe not," Charlie said, going to his little brothers and wrapping them both in a loving hold. "But if you want him to accept you then you have to take the risk and tell him how you feel."

Bill stepped forward almost nervously, knowing that he had been watching emotions from his brothers that no one outside the three of them normally got to see.

"I love you both, so much," he told the twins, voice wavering from the sheer passion of his words. "Whatever's going on, it just wouldn't change that, it couldn't. No matter what you do, no matter how upset you might make me, I will always love you. Please, help me understand. At least let me try."

"Okay..." George started, letting go of his twin and turning to his oldest brother.

"...what do you want to know?"


	7. Chapter 7

~ Chapter Seven ~

Harry Potter held his muggle pen above the first blank page of the journal in his lap a third time, only to pull it away with a sigh, still unsure how to put his feelings into words properly.

The day after Fred and George had made their second visit to Privet Drive, the Dursleys had been entertaining guests and Harry had been left in his cupboard. He had tossed and turned on his thin mattress the entire day and through the night, wishing for a quill or a pen and some light to write by. He was itching to try the journal the twins had given him, not able to shake his pessimistic doubt about the books working over such a long distance. Besides, he was eager to hear how Hedwig was. He wasn't looking forward to when Uncle Vernon would inevitably realize the snowy owl had gone missing.

That morning his Aunt had finally released him from beneath the stairs and he had snagged a pen while left alone in the kitchen to prepare breakfast. While his relatives ate, Harry slipped into the back yard, sitting where Charlie Weasley had recently sprawled in the summer heat watching him work. There Harry had reverently opened his journal and scribbled "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" on the first page and held his breath. Within moments, several pages were filling with the twins' writing and he read through the heart-breaking conversation that had been shared between the brothers the night before:

Fred? Come on Fred, tell me you found a pen...

_George, thank Merlin. Mum just locked me in my room, and I had to wait until she left to try writing, I was worried you wouldn't remember the journals._

Where are you? There are silencing charms all over this room and mum hexed my door away. There's no way I'm getting out without a wand.

_Same here... George, it's the middle of the night. I've never slept without you._

...I know...

_I feel empty._

You know wizards aren't really meant to be separated from their wands, it's bound to feel strange...

_That's not it._

...I know.  
Fred, we need to make a decision.

_About Harry?_

Subtle.  
And yes, about Harry.

_Tell him._

...Just like that? Have you even thought this through?

_What's there to think about? This is the only way I can talk to you for Merlin knows how long. And mum caught us, it's probably only a matter of time before he finds out about us anyway. Wouldn't you rather he hear it from us?_

I know, but... he'll hate us.

_He didn't hate us for giving that trick candy to his fat cousin and making his Uncle treat him like hippogriff dung._

This is different.

_Yeah._

You're saying we don't really have a choice, right?

_I love you, brother._

I love you too.  
You start?

_Where? From the beginning? The long version with all the nitty gritty details? Or short and sweet, like..._

...ripping off a bandaid? Yeah, that's probably best.

_Right.  
I'm in love with my twin brother, Harry._

And I'm in love with mine.

_And mum caught us snogging after we came back from bringing you your journal..._

...which if you're reading this you've figured out how to work it, congrats mate...

...and wasn't too pleased.

_She thinks we're just being FredAndGeorge, experts at being irresponsible and careless._

She thinks we're curious, looking for attention...

_...gay and experimenting._

Mum's not too keen on the idea of a gay son, it would seem.  
...Bloody hell, Bill's at the door. Mum must've called him. Gotta go.  
Mischief managed.

_That can't be good.  
Look, Harry, I hope you're at least still reading this and haven't chucked your journal out of disgust without giving us a chance to explain. We know we're not supposed to feel this way about each other. Don't you think we've tried to stop? I don't even think that it's a gay thing... not that we have the same problems with that issue as mum, but it's just, I dunno, different with us? Like, it's not just that I don't fancy girls. I don't fancy guys, either. I just fancy Fred. I've only ever fancied Fred. Is it normally supposed to work like that? I mean-  
Bullocks. Bill's here now. Bye, Harry.  
Mischief managed._

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.  
Awww, I fancy you too, Georgie! Does that make us incredibly egotistical I wonder? Us being identical and all.  
Anyway, I suppose I'll take over.  
He's right Harry. I don't look at other blokes in the showers after quidditch or anything. I don't imagine I'd have much interest in the girls either, though. But George... have you seen where he has freckles at? I mean damn!  
...Sorry, that's probably not helping... I'm not very good at this, George is better at the deep conversations.  
By the way, how can you tell us apart? Back at the Dursleys, you knew who was who even in the dark. I didn't think anyone but Charlie could pull that off. And now that I think about it, I don't think you've ever mixed us up. What gives, Potter?

_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.  
Bill's a bloody git._

I take it your conversation went well then?

_Oh brilliant.  
Fred, I can't believe you watched me in the showers at quidditch!_

I thought... I mean, you always... sorry?

_Clearly, you're the perverted twin.  
I only watch you in the showers when there aren't other people around._

Harry's never going to be able to look either one of us in the eye again.

_...Fred, he's not reading this anymore. Look at what we've told him. How could he possibly be okay with... any of this?_

Maybe he's-  
Bill's back.  
Mischief managed.

_Round two then. Brilliant.  
I'll talk to you after he has his second go at me.  
Mischief managed_

He imagined his friends, miserable and trapped in a way that no one would understand better than himself. He had grown used to the dull, fuzzy feeling that came with losing connection with his magic completely during the summers. He couldn't imagine what that must feel like being experienced for the very first time as full wizards. But what really had him at a loss for words was how they must feel separated from each other. What could he possibly say to make up for even a fraction of that sort of loneliness? He sighed, knowing that he probably didn't have much time and refusing to write nothing and have them think that he was rejecting them.

**After all the hate I've seen in the world, I'm not about to condemn love in any form. Besides, if you weren't together that would mean you'd have to end up with other people some day or be alone forever, and either of those options just seem... wrong, somehow.**  
**I do NOT hate you.**  
**Don't get caught with the journals, none of us can handle being cut off from the world anymore. And I-**  
**I-**  
**Dementors. Dudley.**

XxXxXxXxX

Sirius crouched in Buckbeak's room, the hippogriff watching with interest from the other side of the room. He had just cast a reverse transfiguration charm on the ivory pen Fred had given him the night before, and was now staring dumbfounded at a thin, frantic version of Harry's owl.

"Shhh, Hedwig. It's okay." He started to reach for her but held his hand still when she bristled and snapped her beak warningly. "Hey now, I won't hurt you. It's alright." He held his hand still, stretched out in front of him, and waited patiently. The snowy owl watched him wearily, but after several minutes inched forward enough to nudge her head under his fingers. He sighed in relief and carefully stroked her soft feathers. "Fred and George have got a lot of explaining to do…" he muttered to no one in particular, and thought back to the scene that had woken him last night.

_Molly had woken half the house screaming for Fred and George. Sirius stumbled out of the library (He had gone back into his room to get the twins after cleaning up what remained of their inventions after their mother was through with them. No one answered his knock, though, and when he pushed the door open he had seen them curled up together on his bed, sound asleep and arms and legs holding each other close. He paused for a moment watching them, wondering just how close the two brothers were, but eventually just shrugged deciding it wasn't any of his business. He hadn't had the heart to wake them however, and shut the door quietly behind him before wandering down to the library to sleep on a couch there.). Sirius thought at first that the boys were still sleeping in his room, and carefully avoided Molly as he snuck up to check. When he didn't find them there he pulled out his wand and cast the spell that allowed only the head of the Black family or his heir to connect with the wards of Grimmauld Place. He sensed when the twins had slipped out several hours earlier and groaned, not looking forward to the conversation with their mother._

"_Molly!" He called, making his way towards his mother's screeching portrait and trusting the Weasley matriarch to find him there. He was definitely too tired to handle two screaming women at once. _

"_Black! This had better be damn important! My sons are missing and if you called me down here just to-!"_

"_Molly, lower your voice, I just dealt with the ugly hag don't set her off again, for Merlin's sake. Fred and George aren't here, I checked the wards, and they left several hours ago. I'm sure they just wanted some space, after…"_

"_WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LEFT?!" From behind them, blood-curdling shouts of mudbloods, half-breeds and blood traitors filled the air and Sirius growled._

"_I mean, they are not currently in the house," he ground out irritated, turning to angrily force his mum into silence once again. _

"_I told Dumbledore we shouldn't trust your word on these wards, you've just spent over a decade in Azkaban! What was the man thinking? You SWORE you could keep adjust the wards to keep the children from leaving unaccompanied!"_

"_AND I DID!" He roared, finally snapping at the jab at his time in prison on top of her insinuations that he was not to be trusted. "Going against all my morals and beliefs I set the wards so no underage witch or wizard could either enter or exit this building without the accompaniment of an of-age witch or wizard, with the exception of Harry who, as the heir to the Black family line, cannot be magically restricted in the same ways. I did EXACLTY what I told Dumbledore I would!"_

"_If you did it right, then Fred and George wouldn't have-!"_

"_FRED AND GEORGE ARE OF AGE!" Sirius shouted, cutting her off._

"_THEY'RE ONLY CHILDREN!" She screamed back. Black opened his mouth to respond, but paused as the wards (which he had yet to sever his connection with) alerted him to the nearby apparition of two witches or wizards._

"_Two people just apparated right outside the wards, it's probably them," he told Mrs. Weasley tiredly, then turned to deal with his mother's portrait once more while Molly rushed to the front door. There was a moment of blessed silence after she rushed outside and the portrait was silenced once more, and then Molly's voice echoed shrilly through the open door, cold and harsh enough to have even Sirius wincing._

_"Step. Away. From each other. NOW!" Sirius wandered over curiously, and peered past Mrs. Weasley the twins standing shoulder to shoulder, both their faces deathly pale as they faced their mother._

_She was clearly furious, but Black was stunned into silence by her actions for the second time in the past twenty-four hours when she summoned their wands and marched upstairs with only one twin in tow._

"_Okay, that's not even bloody legal," he muttered, patting his own wand in his pocket, remembering all too well the feeling of being cut off from his magic all those years in Azkaban._

"_Sirius, take this. Quick, before she comes back." He looked up at his name, the remaining twin's voice breaking as he tried to hold back tears. He was holding out an ornate muggle pen, cradling it gently in two hands. "Be careful. Take her somewhere she can't get out and transfigure her back. She hasn't eaten in days, and we promised we'd take care of her and not let her out. You have to take care of her for us, please. I'll do anything, just don't let mum see, please!" He begged, stumbling over his words as he rushed to convince the older man to help him._

"_Hey, hey, of course, let me see… her," Sirius assured him quickly, taking the pen and tucking it carefully into his robes. Moments later Molly was back and she dragged the second twin off much like his brother, leaving Sirius standing alone in the entrance to Grimmauld Place. He turned to look through the open door longingly, wanting nothing more than to step out past the protection of headquarters and breathe fresh air again. Dumbledore had told him the ministry had placed an illegal tracking spell on his magical signature, though. Leaving the house, even sending owl post past the wards, it would get him a one-way ticket to a dementor's kiss. If that thought alone weren't enough to keep him from rushing out to the lure of freedom, the thought that he was Harry's only chance of possibly escaping the Dursleys had kept him cooped up all summer. He hung his head, and shut the door, leaning back against it and sliding to the floor as fell into the all-to-familiar haze of despair that had clouded him for weeks._

Sirius squared his shoulders, physically pulling himself out of the memory. He conjured a goblet of cool water and began shredding tiny pieces of food from his pocket to dip in the water and feed to the weak owl with quiet murmurs of encouragement. Inside his mind was racing, one thought taking over: if Fred and George had Hedwig, they had been to see Harry. He had to find a way to talk to them.

XxXxXxXxX

Bill sat on the bed, staring intently at his hands as he listened to the twins.

"We're not _choosing_ this Bill, there's no choice," Fred insisted.

"We didn't want this or plan on it."

"It's not like we woke up one morning and said 'Hey, I know…'"

"'…why don't I try snogging my twin brother…'"

"'…just for shits and giggles.'" Bill glanced up at their hopeful faces, knowing how badly they wanted him to understand and wishing he did.

"I get that you've thought this through, and that you aren't trying to be irresponsible, or… or looking for attention or anything, but… why do you have to… do stuff… with each other? Why not find a pretty girl, or a nice bloke even? Even if you fancied men, I'm sure mum would come around eventually." He caught Fred's wince just before George threw his hands up in frustration and started yelling.

"There isn't anyone else we'd want to do anything with, why can't you get that? You really want to know why we 'have to do stuff with each other'? Because when we're walking down the halls at school, Fred's ass is the only one I watch. Because every wet dream I've had has been about Fred. Because when I'm lying in bed and wanking with a silencing charm up so I don't get caught, I imagine it's Fred's hands. Because…" His anger seemed to be draining away, and Fred held his arms open for his brother to curl into. "Because no one understands me or loves me or _sees_ me the way Fred does. Because something bad happens and he's the one I want to talk to about it, and because something good happens and he's the one I want to share it with. Because when he smiles my heart beats faster. I'm in love with him, Bill. I don't want anyone else, I'm never _going to_ want anyone else, because I've already found my better half." Bill looked up and watched as Fred tenderly brushed the hair from his twin's forehead, George leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, both of them brushing comforting patterns into the other's back with their fingertips.

"I told you they weren't confused," Charlie whispered, watching his little brothers a little sadly. His eyes met Bill's, and the older boy sighed, knowing he had to say something.

"I don't know how to feel. This is all really new, and… unexpected. But I KNOW I love you, and that nothing will ever change that. I can't say I'm okay with… this. But I'm going to try to trust you to do the right thing." He watched guiltily as his little brothers' shoulders all drooped, wishing he could give them the understanding they were clearly hoping for, but determined to give them the honesty they deserved no matter what. "Look, I know…" he started, but cut himself off quickly and paled as he heard his mother calling him from just outside the door. "Bloody hell." Charlie grabbed his hand and pulled Fred firmly into his arms, nudging George away as gently as he could, even as the twins reached for each other desperately.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, then with a quiet _crack_ they left George behind and reappeared in Fred's room.

"I didn't get to say goodbye," Fred whispered, head down.

"Fred, I…" Charlie eyes were shining with emotion, and Bill's heart ached at the pain and guilt he heard there. Just at that moment their mother's frantic voice was heard once more, this time calling clearly for Bill, and the ring hanging on a chain around Charlie's glowed and let off a piercing wale.

"Mum—" "The dragon reserve—" the two older boys started talking at once, and both leapt into action. Bill tore from the room, setting the hexed door to close automatically behind Charlie and rushing towards his mother's voice. Charlie tugged on his ring, shutting off the wailing and hesitating only for a second before reaching into his robes and pulling out both twin's wands.

"I'm casting a locking spell on these," he told Fred, "Give me your hand. Good. Now only you or I will be able to pick them up or summon them after I've set them down. I'm going to put them under the bed. Once you pick them up, the spell is gone. Think very, very carefully before you make that decision. There's an emergency at the reserve, I have to go. Here, take this," he rushed, pulling another ring off his finger and sliding it onto George's hand, which he still held in his own. "It's a special portkey. Tap it with your wand three times and it will transport directly outside my hut on the reserve. I have to use one to go back now, but this one is for you and George. I trust you to use it if, and only if, you ever truly need it. You WILL get through this Fred, I believe in you. I love you," he finished, grabbing the twin in a bone-crushing hug before pushing him away and with three taps of his wand, disappearing.

At that same moment, Bill was rushing out of Grimmauld Place with a small band of order members, headed to Privet Drive where the wards on Harry Potter's relative's house had alerted Dumbledore to the presence of dark creatures and the use of underage magic.

* * *

Author note: Hello all you wonderful people! Sorry this part of the story sort of stretched out over two chapters; I tried to make it shorter, but Fred and George got cranky with me for trying to steal their spotlight. However, I will be breaking habit and posting the next chapter in just a little while here since I know everyone is anxious to find out what is going on with Harry. I hope you are all enjoying the story. PM me or post a review, I love hearing from you!

-Emmette


	8. Chapter 8

_**Page 8**_

~ Chapter Eight ~

Harry heard the sound of running footsteps from the front of the house and rushed to finish what he was saying to the twins, knowing Dudley's gang must surely be coming after him.

**Don't get caught with the journals, none of us can handle being cut off from the world anymore. And I—**

His hand slowed and his heart sped as he realized the sense of dread and doom he was feeling was far beyond the anticipation of a run-in with his cousin. He tried to shake it off and finish.

**I—**

He began to recognize voices and pick out bits of conversation from the boys running down Privet Drive.

"…should tell Mr. Dursley? Big D can't run, we shouldn't have just left him like that…" That was Piers Polkiss, by far the cruelest of Dudley's friends and oddly the only one Harry suspected had any true feelings of friendship towards his cousin.

"…never felt anything like it, like I'd never be cheerful, like a nightmare…" In the back of his mind, Harry registered Malcolm's voice. He didn't try to hear the rest or, for once, determine how many boys he would be up against before deciding how to act. His heart had stopped cold at the boy's description of what could only be one thing. _Dementors, in Little Whinging… dementors after Dudley, and they could only be here for one reason; rather, for one person…_ Harry cursed the Dursleys for taking his wand, for showing some sense of creativity for once in their boring lives and thinking of a decent hiding spot (Harry had yet to locate it that summer), and for locking him out of the house when they left just minutes before to go shopping. There wasn't really much he could do to help Dudley without his magic, but the Gryffindor in him would never allow for him to hide in the shrubs while someone else suffered because of him. He jotted one last note in the journal, a desperate attempt to alert someone, anyone, who could help.

**Dementors. Dudley.**

Then tossing the book carelessly under a bush, he tore out of the backyard and ran straight to his cousin's four cronies. They stopped short in shock, probably stunned by Harry running towards them rather than away. In any other circumstances, Harry was sure he would have found the situation highly amusing.

"Where's Dudley? Where did you leave him?"

"Why should we tell you, Potter?" Piers taunted, although missing his usual sneer. Harry glared, and clenched his fists; he did not have time for this. He felt strange, as though he could physically feel the anger coursing through his veins. Piers's eyes had grown wide, and only he and Malcolm remained, staring wide-eyed at the small boy in front of them; Dudley's other friends, Dennis and Gordon, had suddenly turned and ran back up the street a short ways before veering off and disappearing between two houses across the street.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Piers stuttered, watching Harry with what he now realized was fear.

"I'm not doing anything!" He shouted, confused and frustrated and furious that he was wasting precious time listening to this nonsensical blubbering. "Tell. Me. Where. Dudley. Is. NOW!"

"I-i-in the graveyard. W-w-we dared a kid to go in there, and we were going to hide behind the gravestones and make ghoul noises…" Harry was off and running before Malcolm had finished talking, still not noticing the sparks of pure magic that were jumping between his fingers and making his eyes and scar nearly glow. From behind him, Piers and Malcolm gave him one last terrified look before turning and running away; they didn't envy Dudley when his little cousin found him.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie's wand was still held in the air in front of him, now completely forgotten. He had arrived on the reserve ready to fly into action, knowing that a moment's hesitation could mean the difference between life and death when faced against a dragon. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the scene that awaited him.

"Merlin's beard…" he breathed, eyes wide with wonder. Gathered together in the clearing in front of the trainers' huts was what looked to be every adult dragon housed on the reserve, as well as several of the more adventurous juveniles. Dragons as a rule were not social creatures outside of their direct family, and certainly not between so many distinct breeds. The reserve extended miles and miles in every direction, so the dragons could easily avoid interaction most of the time. Now, instead, they huddled around each other, heads raised towards the skies in some sort of salute, enormous geysers of flames piercing the clouds. Occasionally, two or three of the massive creatures would pause to bend their heads together and hiss, as though sharing an intimate conversation. Then, they would raise their heads once more and the fiery show would continue.

"What is it?" He asked in awe as a relatively new handler, Pavel Ionescu, approached him.

"I've no idea, never seen anything like this!"

"Well what should we… I mean, should we be doing something?" Charlie hadn't felt this out of his league since he had first begun the job years before and found himself facing a frightened baby dragon alone for the first time.

"I dunno. I was on duty when it started. Boss said to call in all the handlers, even the standbys and rookies, then grabbed a broom and flew out of the wards. I think he was going to try to contact other reserves for extra back-up but he's not back yet, and-"

"There he is," Charlie interrupted, pointing to where Petru Mateche (the wizened Romanian who had run the reserve further back than anyone's memory allotted and refused to share exactly how long he had been there) had just pushed his way through the inner barriers of the wards. He stared for a moment at the dragons then turned his head, making his way towards them.

"Charlie, Pavel," he nodded to each one in greeting. "I've just fire-called the reserves in Norway, Russia, Syria, and the Ukraine."

"No one's shown up except handlers already warded in here in Romania," Pavel jumped in nervously. Charlie, too, had realized that help from the first few reserves Petru contacted should have arrived long before he made his last fire-call and returned. He, however, deduced what that must mean.

"It's happening there too, isn't it?" He questioned, and wasn't surprised when Petru nodded.

"Dumnezeu să ne ajute," Pavel whispered, face pale and hand trembling where it held a vice grip on his wand. _[Romanian for: God help us.]_

"It's going to be fine, Pavi," Charlie assured the other man, hoping to convince himself at the same time. "The dragons aren't attacking each other or any of us, in all honestly I've never seen them half as cordial. What do you think, şef?" He turned to his boss for direction, speaking the Romanian word for chief or leader that most of the reserve used for Petru out of respect.

"Charlie's right. For now, we have to wait and see what the adult dragons do next, there is no point in trying to charge into the fray, we'd never have the power to make any real difference, and we would probably only piss them off. I'm primarily concerned with the young dragons; we don't usually have to worry about them as a rule, they're so rarely out of their mothers' care. We have potentially dozens of frightened, needy dragon infants scattered across the reserve who aren't ready to be on their own. I'll gather the rest of the staff, split them into teams and section off areas of the reserve for them to patrol. Charlie, I need you to find Norbert; he's only ever really responded to you, and he's the only young one we have without a mother's nest to stay drawn to. You know how he butts in and makes trouble with the elder dragons; I don't want to imagine what sort of tempers he'd set off if he showed up here now. Take Pavel with you, you know how I feel about handlers going into the reserve alone." Charlie winced guiltily under his mentor's gaze, knowing that the unnecessary risks he took when first arriving on the reserve as an angry, misunderstood teenager were far from forgotten in the wise leader's mind.

"Of course, şef. Pavi, get your broom and prepare yourself for a long ride; Norbert won't be easy to find if he doesn't want to be."

XxXxXxXxX

Harry was gasping by the time he reached the cemetery. Sprinting that sort of distance would have winded anyone, but between his malnourishment and the emotional fog he was fighting against from the dementors' presence, he was a little surprised he hadn't passed out. He could see them clearly now; Dudley, huddled on the ground and whimpering while two dementors glided towards him. One reached up and lowered his hood, extending a rotted, withered hand towards the terrorized boy. Despite all that his cousin had put him through, Harry wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. He acted out of instinct, picking up a rock and throwing it across the graveyard with a shout, not pausing even for a moment to consider the consequences.

"Oi! Leave him alone! You came for me, remember?" The dementors paused, lifting their faces to him and Harry felt his stomach lurch as he stared into the black, gaping hole that served as the dementor's mouth. He blinked to block out the black spots dancing in his vision, trying desperately to block out his mother's screams from his mind. "Come on you great ugly gits, come after me!" He shouted, voice a little weaker this time but just as determined. This time the second hooded figure rose back into the air fully and began to float towards him, the petrifying rattle of happiness being sucked from the air filling Harry's ears.

He stumbled to his knees, trying to prepare himself for the end, but just before his eyes were going to slide closed he saw that the other dementor was advancing on his cousin once more, lifting the now still boy's face towards his own.

"No!" Harry screamed, one hand clenched into the earth below him and the other stretched towards Dudley, wanting nothing more in that moment than to see a patronus erupting out of a wand and storming the creature about to consume the other boy's soul. The desire was so strong that it took Harry a moment to register that the shimmering white-blue stag galloping between headstones was real, and that the dementors had been quickly repelled into the air. Harry's mouth was open as though crying out in pain, but no sound escaped; he felt a flow of power that he had never before experienced, felt consumed by the magic he could feel all around him, under him, and inside him.

The cold mist of despair disappeared with the dementors and Dudley was once more crying pitifully where he lay curled on the ground. Harry collapsed, blinking tiredly past beads of sweat and tears as the stag trotted into his field of vision and lowered his head, front legs bending as though in a bow, before the patronus dissolved into the air.

Harry's head fell with a soft thump onto the dirt and grass below him, and he felt his body slowly surrendering to exhaustion. His eyes had fallen shut and he could feel his consciousness wavering when he realized there were soft voices coming from near his feet.

"…But he issss hardly more than a hatchling, thissss cannot be right."

"We all felt him; he hasss the sssame mark that called to our nessssts with ssssorrow many ssssuns ago."

"Yessss, but he was foolisssh today. Feel how hissss body ssssuffers. It isssss not yet time for him to call on hissss _primogenita_."

"Hmmm, true. You musssst learn more control, little princcce." Harry raised his head and squinted down at the two large snakes peering at him.

"Uh, hi," he said uncertainly, having no idea what they were talking about but fairly certain the scolding tone the second of the two had just spoken with was directed at him.

"Greetingssss, little princcce. You ssshould not run after the darknesss," the first snake hissed in amusement.

"A clever sssnake would know to ssstay in hissss nesssst when dark creaturesss are near," the other joined in, still scolding.

"Er, you mean the dementors?" Harry asked tentatively. "It's not like I fancied having a go at them, but they were after my cousin."

"Ah yessss, the loud abhorrent one. Why not let the dark onessss have him? Hisss abssssenccce would hardly be a disssappointment."

"Wha- no! Do you know what those things do to people? That's… even he doesn't deserve that," the small boy snapped in outrage, head pounding and wanting nothing more than for his unwanted visitors to leave him alone.

"Ssssuit yourssself, little princcce," the scolding snake told him, Harry scowling at the strange name they kept addressing him with. "You and the loud one ssshould return to your nessst, it issss much sssafer there." Both snakes raised their heads into the air, reaching eye-level with the young wizard where he had pulled himself to a sitting position during the strange conversation. Then, without another word, they swooped gracefully back to the ground and slithered away through the grass.

Harry half stumbled, half crawled towards Dudley, his muscles trembling and every nerve feeling exposed to his surroundings, as though his nerve endings had risen to the outside of his skin. He paused a few yards away, heaving violently and losing what little food had been in his stomach. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and squared his shoulders with determination. He carefully circled the mess he had just made and dragged himself the final distance towards his cousin.

"Dudley? Dud, stop crying. You need to get home. Dudley! Shut up, damnit, you can't stay here!"

"Y-you stay away from me! Y-y-you did this to me, with your m-magic! GET AWAY!" Harry tried to dodge the foot as it kicked out towards him, but his reaction time was delayed and the larger boy's shoe caught him on the side of his head. He groaned, seeing stars and leaning back against a gravestone.

"Bloody hell, you prat, that wasn't me! Didn't you see the dementors?" His cousin glared at him suspiciously and Harry sighed. "Black, cloaked, disgusting things? There were two of them and one tried to suck your soul out of your mouth?" He clarified. Dudley's face paled and his words were muffled when he responded due to the hand he had clapped tightly over his mouth.

"You're lieing! There wasn't anyone here 'cept for me and you! You did this!" Harry's heart faltered, realizing that muggles must not be able to see dementors which meant, of course, that he was going to have an even harder time explaining the underage magic he had just performed (never mind the fact that it shouldn't have been possible for him to do said magic without his wand).

"Bloody brilliant," he said through gritted teeth. "Look, we need to…" There was a series of _cracks_ from just beyond the cemetery that Harry knew could mean only one thing. His breath hitched and he tried to think of any way he could get them, or at least Dudley, out of the graveyard before Voldemort and his Death Eaters got to them; he refused to watch another person killed because of him. "Dudley," he hissed with all the urgency and fury he could manage. "If you value your life, stay hidden and _don't make a sound_!" He glared one last time for good measure, than slid on his stomach until he was a fair distance away from his cousin; enough to draw attention completely away from where the large boy crouched behind a headstone. He turned his head and swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat seeing the collection of stones and trinkets piled in front of "his" grave.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save everyone, mum and dad," he whispered. "I hope you're proud of me when I meet you… it looks like that's going to be happening really soon." He gave himself one last moment for the fear and sorrow to wash over him, then pushed through it and pushed himself to his feet. His face was set in a blank mask and his hands loose at his sides when he turned to face the line of black hooded wizards walking into the cemetery and accept his fate.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie pulled his broom to a halt in midair once more, trying not to let his temper get the best of him as he waited for Pavel to catch up for the fourth time since they began flying through the reserve in search of Norbert. He was worried about the young dragon, and if it was unwise to delay Charlie from reaching a dragon in trouble, it was downright idiotic to stand between him and Norbert. The two had developed a strange bond from the day he arrived from Hogwarts.

_His behavior with Harry had been remarkable enough, but when the other handlers had gathered to greet Charlie and the others, Norbert had lashed out viciously in panic. Scared dragons they were used to, and the fact that Norbert had no mother had prepared them for extra difficulty, but no one had expected such ferocity and aggression from a dragon so young. The boss had been considering stunning the juvenile when the hatchling had turned and made eye contact with Charlie, eyes round with fear and uncertainty. Charlie had looked into the eyes and gotten the strangest feeling that the little dragon was silently asking him for reassurance, as though waiting for the red-headed wizard to show him that everything would be alright. __With a nervous gulp, Charlie lowered the wand that had been held out protectively in front of him. He held up his hands as though telling Norbert he meant no harm and then ever so slowly stepped to the side, leaning over the handler closest to him and lowering the witch's wand as well. He made his way around the circle like that, lowering each witch and wizard's wands and never breaking eye contact with the dragon turning in place to watch his every move. When the last wand had been lowered, Charlie nodded carefully to the handlers on either side of him then backed out of the circle. The others followed suit, and soon the circle had turned into more of a horseshoe shape, leaving a decent-sized opening facing out into the reserve. No one moved for several long minutes, and more than a few hands shook where they held their wands at their sides, fighting the urge to raise them protectively once more. Finally, the little dragon shuffled hesitatingly towards the opening. He stopped a few times, looking around at the wizards next to and behind him suspiciously. Eventually, though, he made it past the ring of handlers and in a flash scampered off into the trees.__There was silence for a few seconds after Norbert vanished from sight, then everyone started talking at once, crowding around Charlie and demanding to know what was going on. Charlie could only shake his head, still in shock. He had never heard of a dragon reacting in that way to a human. The two handlers who had accompanied him to retrieve the young dragon eagerly stepped into the spotlight, telling about the amazing scene between Norbert and "Charlie's little brother's mate, Harry." Charlie briefly considered clarifying that "Harry" was in fact the legendary Harry Potter, but let it go, realizing it didn't make any difference and oddly deciding that Harry would appreciate being the center of attention for something that 'just Harry' had done._

Charlie was drawn from his memories by a blood-curdling scream. He spun in mid-air just in time to see Pavel hurdling towards the ground, the tail end of his broomstick furling black smoke behind him. Charlie quickly cast a cushioning charm, knowing it wouldn't make the impact comfortable by any means, but should prevent any serious injury. Then, with the careful eye of a seeker, Charlie scanned the ground below him until he caught a flash of gleaming mud-green scales and silently turned his own broom to fly near the troublesome dragon. He was carefully ignoring the voice in the back of his head that sounded eerily like Petru, grumbling about taking unnecessary risks and how it was going to bite him in the ass one day, when the undergrowth directly in front of him shook with the sound of an explosion and Norbert erupted into the air mere feet in front of him, eyes wild and a sound half-way between a whimper and a roar stopping the red-head's heart as he waited for the jet of flames that was sure to follow. _What a day for the little guy to learn how to fly_, he thought with unexpected calm, eyes squeezing shut as he prepared to die.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Page 10**_

~ Chapter Nine ~

Just before they apparated outside of Little Whinging, Alastor Moody had instructed the small band of Order members to cast a dissalusionment charm on themselves. Even muggles were bound to take notice if nearly a dozen darkly cloaked and hooded witches and wizards were running down Privet Drive. As they approached the house of Harry Potter's relatives, however, it was obvious that sightings of cloaked figures were going to be the least of their worries.

With his magical eye Mad-Eye could see that all around them the air sparked with wild magic, the kind usually released in small spurts by magical children. The amount of magic that must have been emitted in that small area tonight, however, left Moody's mind spinning along with his eye. The rest of the Order members with him were shifting uncomfortably, sensing the imbalance of magic in the air but not able to locate its source. Explanations would have to wait though, because no sooner had they reached the house than it became clear that Harry wasn't there. Several streets in front of them where an ominous mist hung over the ground, the air lit up with a burst of blue light.

"Blast it anyway!" He growled in frustration, and not even Nymphadora Tonks chuckled at his odd cursing. They all knew that they couldn't risk apparating so close to Harry's house, and the young wizard couldn't possibly be prepared for the consequences of his underage magic. "Move, move! Let's go!" Moody urged, limping ahead at an impressive speed. The mist ahead was rapidly clearing, and his heart sank at the implications. After they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the Dursley's home, Alastar noticed a large gated clearing on a hill up ahead. He thought it might have been where the blue light came from and gave the signal. Moments later, the group of witches and wizards appeared in front of the entrance to a cemetery. He winced, and saw out of the back of his head that Bill Weasly had also made the connection to the events of the final tri-wizard task. Holding a hand up for silence and his keeping wand pointed protectively in front of him, Alastor led the way into the graveyard.

He began scanning the ground and located a large boy huddled behind a grave. He almost turned towards him when movement to the left caught his eye. There was Harry, crawling away from the other boy, and Moody paused, doubting that Potter would ever abandon anyone when there was danger and wondering if somehow a death eater had managed to impersonate him. Before he had decided the best way to proceed, the one who might be Harry seemed to brace himself before standing and staring straight at him, a defiant look in his eyes. Moody shook his head and growled, gruffly covering up the grudging pride that he knew would be leaking into his voice.

"Boy, what have you got to go through before that foolish Gryffindor bravery is stamped out of you? Tell yer friend to get over here, you can stop protecting him." He reached up one knarled hand and pulled the hood off his head, watching the others with him do the same. He expected Harry to look relieved seeing so many friendly faces, but instead he squared his shoulders and his face set in a resolute glare.

"Professor Moody."

"Never got around to much professor-ing, but aye."

"Prove it." Alastor saw many raised eyebrows at the bold statement, but he himself couldn't hold back a wide grin.

"Good boy. Ask me something only the real me would know." Harry only had to think for a few moments.

"When Dumbledore found you after the tournament, what was the first thing you said to him?" Kingsly shifted uncomfortably, and gave the young wizard a disapproving frown. Moody just shushed him and nodded proudly. It was a brilliant question. Only four people were there that night: Harry, Moody, Barty Crouch Jr. (who had received the dementor's kiss hours later), and Dumbledore. The odds were as close to zero as he could get that anyone else had knowledge of the conversation.

"I said 'I'm sorry Albus.' It was the first apology I'd made in years. Well done, Potter," he couldn't help adding.

"Brilliant," the boy replied shakily before he slumped forward on the headstone in front of him and began shaking, small sparks of magic jumping sporadically from his finger tips.

"Bullocks," Alastor muttered in alarm and aparated to his side. "There's another boy hiding over there," he told the rest of the group pointing to where Dudley was still hiding. "Control the situation here and return to headquarters. Work quickly, ministry officials will be arriving any time now. Kingsly, Tonks, get back to the office and see what you can find out from that end. Remus, you're in charge." With that, he grabbed the trembling boy in front of him by the shoulders and both wizards vanished with a thundering _crack_.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie Weasly's eyes were shut tightly, thoughts strangely relaxed as he waited for the torrent of fire to engulf him and death to claim him. He wasn't at all prepared, however, for strong claws to suddenly wrap around his torso and yank him from his broomstick, carrying him hurdling towards the ground. Mere meters before man and dragon would have crashed into the ground Norbert spread his wings and they glided to a relatively gentle stop. Charlie tumbled into a barrel roll as the young dragon released him and turned slowly to look up at the large reptile in disbelief. It was uncalled for a human to get this close to a conscious dragon and live to tell the tale. Norbert watched him carefully, but otherwise didn't react more than shuffling his back legs restlessly.

Charlie watched the shimmer of magic swirl just below the surface of scales. It was magnificent to see, and only visible from such a close distance. He was sure that some part of him must be cowering in terror in the back of his mind, but he was too fascinated and curious for it to register at the moment.

"You know what's going on Norbert, I can tell. Why do I feel like you're trying to tell me?" He felt a little silly talking to a dragon as though they could really communicate, but he couldn't shake the gut feeling that he was missing something important. His fear was steadily draining away and Charlie slid down to sit comfortably leaning against a tree mere feet from Norbert's scaly skin. The dragon still seemed distressed, pawing the ground nervously and whipping his head high to send streams of flame into the air every so often, but he did not harm Charlie and showed no interest in leaving. "Well, Petru did say my job was to make sure you were okay and not headed off to cause trouble with the mature dragons, so I guess you're stuck with me for now," Charlie told him kindly, surprised when Norbert turned to watch him as he spoke, seeming to settle ever so slightly with the soothing tone of his voice.

Three hours later, his voice was nearly gone from constant dialogue in an attempt to keep Norbert calm. He was drained, and had resorted to repeating topics a good forty minutes ago. Charlie had just begun to list current Quidditch team standings for a third time when Norbert froze, eyes and ears alert and body poised for action. Charlie froze with him, wondering if this was when reality hit and the young dragon burnt him to a crisp after all. Instead, Norbert made a sound that could only be described as a purr and visibly relaxed for the first time that day. He turned in a quick circle and settled onto the ground, eyes fluttering closed and was instantly asleep, the exhaustion of the day hitting hard. Charlie didn't move for a good ten minutes, not wanting to startle the sleeping dragon.

Finally, with a deep breath, he stood and took one step backwards. He waited tensely, but there was no reaction and slowly he backed away, finally reaching a clearing after putting enough distance between him and Norbert to equal a Quidditch field. He sighed, and raised his wand into the air to send up red sparks of distress. His broomstick had been lost when Norbert grabbed him, and he wasn't about to walk miles and miles through the dragon reserve with no protection and no quick method of escape, especially with night falling soon. He sat down to wait for help to arrive and suddenly began to tremble, the adrenaline draining away and the stress of the day showing its effect.

When Petru, Pavel, and three other handlers showed up twenty minutes later expecting to find a charred and bleeding Charlie, miraculously holding onto a shred of life after his run-in with Norbert, they were shocked to find the red-head sprawled out on the forest floor fast asleep, not a visible mark on him.

XxXxXxXxX

Alastor Moody swore colorfully as he and Harry appeared outside of Grimmauld Place with another thundering _crack_ and both of them fell roughly to the pavement. All the magic swirling around the boy was throwing off his own magic, and if ever there was a time not to draw attention to Harry Potter, it was now.

"Come on, up, let's go boy, up," he urged gruffly, concern growing by the minute. Harry seemed disoriented and his reactions slowed and delayed. Moody pulled him to his feet and quickly held a small scrap of paper in front of him. "Read this Potter, come on. You've never given up before, don't start now. Fight this!" As rough and unconcerned as Mad-Eye appeared on the outside, he had a gentler heart than most could imagine. He knew Harry needed to be pushed through this, but he still felt guilty. Harry nodded with a grimace, reaching for the paper with a trembling hand and lips moving as he read the words written. He turned to Moody quizzically. Mad-Eye just gestured in front of them, plucking the paper from the boy's hand and setting it aflame as he did so.

Harry watched in awe as the buildings in front of them spread apart to reveal Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He stumbled along next to Moody as the older man limped quickly to the door, shoving the boy inside in front of him and latching the door behind them moments later.

"What's going on?" Harry spoke suddenly, and Alastor had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach at the angry tone. If Harry was coming into his full wizarding powers early as Mad-Eye suspected, and at such shockingly strong levels, anger was the last thing they wanted mixed in with the situation.

"This is headquarters," he explained. "Order of the Phoenix, we're the group that worked with Dumbledore to fight You-Know-Who the first time."

"And I'm here because it's safe and secure, right? That's what reading that paper and the building appearing was all about?" Harry's tone was accusatory, and rapidly growing in volume. Moody wasn't sure exactly what was fueling the boy's anger, but if it didn't get under control soon, it was going to be dangerous.

"You're perfectly safe here Potter, not even Voldemort can get to you while you're in headqua-" The blast of pure magic knocked him off his feet, and his magical eye stayed trained on the boy in wonder. The shock and guilt clear on his face confirmed for Moody what he had already expected; the magic was purely accidental. He nearly shivered at the thought of what Harry would be capable of when he had control over his power and could consciously direct it in a single direction, rather than have bits and spurts escape at random.

Mrs. Black had begun shrieking from her portrait after the blast of magic and footsteps could be heard from several directions. Moody's magical eye spun quickly, taking in the situation. Molly was about to burst out of the kitchen, Ron and Hermione were racing down the stairs between the second and third floors… the one saving grace was that Black was locked away with his damned hippogriff again, hiding behind his silencing charms. Mad-Eye noticed an owl with him, and filed that information in his mind for later, wondering how the crafty mut had managed that.

"Harry! Oh dear you poor thing, come here," Molly said as she came down the hall, arms held out in an offered embrace. Harry, though, looked panicked and suspicious, and when he took a step back as Mrs. Weasley got too close, his wild magic began to swirl around him as though he reacting to his desperation for a shield. Moody knew that Molly would not be able to see the swirls of magic as his spinning eye allowed him, but she had clearly felt it and looked between the two men in alarm.

"Mate, what happened?" "Oh Harry, we've been so worried!" Ron and Hermione's voices ran over each other as they bounded into the room as well.

"No!" Harry shouted unexpectedly, enough to catch them all off guard even without the boom of magic that sent all four of them crashing to the floor once more. Ron was staring in disbelief and a touch of fear, Hermione's eye wide and shining with a mix of worry and anxiety. Molly, being Molly, took a different approach.

"Harry James Potter! You stop that right now! You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing such a tantrum. Put your wand away this instant young man!" Moody groaned at how completely wrong she had taken the situation and was not the least bit surprised when the whole house shuddered with the boom of magic that followed, even Mrs. Black shutting up in surprise. No one had been knocked over this time, however, and Moody looked at the boy in alarm, seeing the deep grimace of pain on his face as he clearly fought to keep his magic away from the others in the room. He had never been taught about channeling or directing magic, however, and was instead trying to control it with sheer force of will. If he wasn't seeing it with his own eyes, he wouldn't believe it possible from any wizard, much less a fourteen-year-old.

"Molly, shut up! It's wild magic, he can't control it! The more you upset him the stronger it lashes out and the harder he has to fight to hold it back from harming any of us. Look at the boy, it's tearing him apart trying to hold back pure magic."

"Harry?" Hermione had knelt slowly and was speaking with hardly a tremble in her voice, in true Gryffindor style. "It's okay Harry, we're here, we can help you through this," she pleaded.

"Yeah, mate," Ron followed her lead, "We always have your back, you know that." Harry didn't acknowledge them but for an anguished cry and the sound of broken glass filled the air as pictures fell from walls and shattered on the floor. Mad-Eye's normal eye widened; the magic of Grimmauld Place would have prevented the glass from breaking over family portraits. Harry's magic was overriding enchantments that had been on the Black family home for centuries.

"Sure you do, that's why you turned half the tower against him last year…"

"…when he already had the weight of the Tournament on his shoulders…"

"…and why neither of you wrote to him…"

"…or checked on him…"

"…once this summer." Molly spun around at Fred and George's voices, and Moody was surprised at the fury he saw in her face. He knew the twins must have seen it as well, but neither reacted. Instead, they turned as one to Harry and walked closer without hesitation. Harry himself looked scared, but not as though he was scared _of_ the two red-heads, but rather _for_ them.

"Well done with the crazy magic, mate. Knocked mum's hexes right off our doors."

"Freedom is sweet."

"Now…" One of the twins asked dangerously as they both turned to face the room at large.

"…why don't we all back away from Harry?"

"Back down," Moody spoke warningly, growing upset himself. He wasn't used to sitting back and watching a situation unfold rather than controlling it. "He's already been through a lot tonight, he just finally snapped. The last thing we need is the two of you butting in and flaring tempers. I had only been telling him about headquarters and that he was safe, and he lost control of his magic. It's no one's fault…" But even as he said it he began to feel uncertain. Both twins had turned to Harry with understanding in their eyes and Moody realized he must have missed something.

"We're sorry, Harry…"

"…you don't have to trust anyone right now…"

"…we wouldn't either..."

"…you don't even have to trust us…"

"…we left you there, too…"

"…we shouldn't have." They finished together, and hung their heads ashamed.

"We knew you were there because it was supposed to be safe…"

"…but we didn't even think why you couldn't be safe here instead."

Mad-Eye's mind was racing, trying to connect the pieces of the conversation and make sense of it. He was distracted moments later, however, when Harry's magic (which up until that point had been swirling around him in all directions and keeping anyone from approaching him) flickered.

"I trust you," he stated simply, and Fred and George caught him off guard yet again that night with an emotion he hadn't thought them capable of; they look humbled. "Where is she?" he asked them suddenly, fear in his voice. "Is she…? Did she…?" His voice trembled and the magic flickered for longer this time. Moody inched closer, waiting for his chance to stun the boy until Dumbledore could get there to help control the situation. One of the twins opened his mouth to answer, but a gleeful hoot split the air just at that moment and a snowy owl flew down the stairwell. The owl swooped easily through the wall of magic, demonstrating why they were able to deliver mail through wards in the magical world.

"She missed you, Harry," Black's voice followed, rich with emotion. "Merlin, so have I." Moody cursed as the magical shield around Harry, which had nearly gone away as he held his owl close, rose immediately back to full force. The air sparked and even Fred and George took several steps back in alarm. Harry himself fell to his knees, the effort of directing so much magic asking too much from the small boy. He leaned forward and looked as though he was about to hurl, and did in fact begin to dry heave moments later.

"Easy Harry…

"…we're not going to let anyone hurt you…"

"…not anymore…"

"…we'll help you." With that, both boys pulled their wands from their robes and Molly swore from her place across the room. Fred and George didn't even seem to register this, focused solely on each other as they began to weave a shield spell so complex and customized that Alastor was certain that several divisions of the Ministry would hire them on the spot if they had seen it. Molly was shouting now, forbidding the twins from casting the spell, but both ignored her. Their words were muttered and clearly in sync, but spoken too softly to hear. They were struggling and sweat began to bead on their foreheads as their brows knit in concentration, but they never paused.

Harry was still fighting to hold onto his magic, but as the twins inched slowly closer to either side of him, Harry's shield shrunk back at the same pace. Moody raised his wand and stepped forward, watching Molly do the same out of the corner of his eye. They would have a tiny window of opportunity to step in between Harry's shield dropping and Fred and George casting theirs over a third party. Suddenly, the two red-heads arced their wands wide over their heads from either side of the smaller boy and Mad-Eye watched as a net of magic settled over all three of them and Harry's own shield faded away within the safety of his friends' magic, the wild magic finally going away. Moody lowered his wand, wondering how in the world two seemingly irresponsible seventeen-year-olds had created a spell so ingenious.

From inside the circle, Fred and George held their arms out as Harry collapsed into their embrace, eyes shut and face buried into their shoulders as the older boys spoke words that their silencing charms kept hidden from the outside world.

XxXxXxXxX

Order members shifted uncomfortably in the kitchen several hours later. No one had been able to get to Harry and ask him what had happened at Little Whinging earlier that day. Not only was the twin's shield incredibly well created, it also had the added power of a tandem spell, cast by two wizards together. While this on its own still would not have held the Order back inevitably, Sirius had yet to move from his self-proclaimed guard station in front of the three shielded boys. Between his very serious promise to curse anyone who tried to get near his godson (Kingsly had a blistered arm perpetually oozing puss to prove it) and the fact that he had a direct link to the ancient magic and charms of the Black family home, Harry was effectively cut off. Even Dumbledore, upon arriving twenty minutes earlier, had said that though he may be able to break through the shield, he couldn't be sure none of the boys would get hurt, and therefore wouldn't risk it.

"Well," Dumbledore stood and began speaking, and the room went silent at the single word. Everyone wanted to know what was going on. "What we know is that two dementors showed up at Surry near Harry's relative's home and that Harry, using a Patronus charm, fought them off." There was some quiet murmuring about this, and Dumbledore waited a moment before continuing. "We also know that Harry appears to be coming into his full wizarding powers early, and as I anticipated they are quite impressive." At this chaos broke out in the room. No one could remember hearing of someone so young reaching full powers. Occasionally an exceptionally powerful child would begin showing signs before their sixteenth birthday, but even then it was a gradual process until they turned seventeen and fully came into their new magic. For a boy as young as Harry to be anywhere close to gaining his adult powers was unheard of.

"But Dumbledore, it can take months—a year—before a witch or wizard gets control of their powers," Lupin reasoned in alarm. "For those strong enough to begin the process before coming of age it takes longer and is even more unpredictable! That's what started the magical schools like Hogwarts in the first place… with Voldemort back…" He trailed off, not needing to finish the thought that was on everyone's minds: How could Harry hope to protect himself when his magic was in a completely unpredictable, uncontrollable stage?

"He can stay here, of course. I'll look after him, and headquarters is safe," Molly interjected.

"Not likely," Moody growled. "Already today he accidentally broke through centuries-old charms placed on the Ancient House of Black." Mad-Eye's words were followed by a stunned silence. Breaking family line magic was nearly impossible. There was a reason Mrs. Black was still hanging on the wall.

"There are ways to reinforce the wards, if-" Dumbledore cut himself off as the door to the kitchen opened and Sirius entered the room, followed by Harry and, to everyone's surprise, only one of the twins.

"Harry, how are you my boy?" Dumbledore asked with genuine concern.

"I've been better," he said softly, and sank tiredly into a chair as Black quickly summoned one and pushed it towards him. Harry was clinging to a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as though desperate to stay hidden.

"Professor Snape, you need to come see something," the twin that had followed Harry in spoke calmly, a bold move to address the head of Slytherin on any terms, but particularly in making a demand.

"I _need_ not do anything, Mr. Weasley," he sneered back almost immediately, just as Harry hissed

"George!" angrily.

"You promised," George answered softly, directed at Harry, then glanced at Snape before continuing in a louder voice. "Yeah, you do. Fred and I are shit at healing spells and as much as you treat Harry like dragon dung you need him alive just as much as anyone else. You may be a greasy git but I've seen you heal crazy things in potions class. You're good." With that he tenderly held up the smaller boys hands.

There were shocked gasps around the room at the deep red welts that ran jaggedly down his fingers and palms, disappearing behind the edge of the blanket. It was as though someone had tried to make the rest of Harry match the scar on his forehead. Snape hadn't even commented on George's frank insults, instead rising quickly from his chair with a sweep of his robes and apparating across the kitchen to begin inspecting the damage.

"Just the hands?" He asked in a clipped tone. George looked at Harry expectantly, but when he didn't answer he pulled the blanket off his friend's shoulders and as it slipped to the floor everyone in the room could see where the welts had spread all the way up his arms.

"They're over his whole torso, you can see where they crept up his neck a bit at the base," George reported in an uncharacteristically solemn tone.

"How…?" Arthur Weasley broke the silence around the table, trying to ask the question on everyone's mind. Boldly, George turned to look directly at Dumbledore when he answered.

"When his magic went wild, he put everything he had into holding it back from the other people in the room. He was hardly breathing on his own when the wild magic finally faded. He nearly died trying to protect everyone else."


	10. Chapter 10

~ Chapter Ten ~

Severus returned to Hogwarts after examining the welts on Harry's arms for several minutes. At one point, he had tried to move Harry's shirt aside, but when the boy's immediate response had been to accidently topple half the order off their chairs with his burst of panicked magic, Snape had left well enough alone. He determined that a potion would be safer to cure the magical burns, rather than using a charm and sending even more magic coursing through Harry's body that day. Fred walked in right after Snape left and rolled Harry's trunk into the kitchen.

"Where did you get that?" Molly demanded, gesturing to the trunk and shooting daggers at her sons with her eyes.

"Harry's aunt and uncle's house," George answered for his brother, stepping next to his twin so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

"What were you thinking going there?! Do you have any idea what the ministry is going to do when they detect your magic by his house? Of all the reckless, irresponsible, selfish-"

"They didn't detect any magic the first two times George and I went to the house this summer," Fred cut her off in irritation. "You really still think we have mush for brains, don't you? We apparate to a park several blocks over, and don't use a scrap of magic until we apparate back from the same spot. George and I figured SOMEONE ought to consider that Harry might want his things at some point, and we weren't about to leave him alone with you lot." The tirade was uncharacteristic for the twins who hardly made it through sentences on their own. Fred, however, was fuming; with each statement his voice rose until he was nearly shouting at the end.

"And you think you'll do a better job protecting him the entire Order? Really Fred." Mrs. Weasley's tone was scornful and many of the witches and wizards in the room shifted uncomfortably at the way she was speaking to one of her own children.

"Yes," George answered simply, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder in warning. "I think we'll do a much better job at protecting _Harry_." There was an exaggerated emphasis on the name, and the boy in question looked up at them questioningly. Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke kindly, though there was an edge of caution in his voice as well. As he spoke, Snape strode silently through the fireplace and surveyed the scene before him with raised eyebrows.

"Your loyalty to your friend is impressive, but I assure you everyone in this room would do anything needed to keep Harry safe."

"See that's the thing professor." Fred began.

"The Order of the Phoenix was created to fight Voldemort…"

"…and we have no doubt you would take whatever measures necessary to protect _The Boy Who Lived_…"

"…but we haven't seen a scrap of evidence to show that a single one of you has _Harry_ at the top of your priority lists."

"You protect your weapon, we'll protect our friend." They finished in unison.

There was an uproar of protests following the twins' accusation, order members jumping to their feet all around the room accompanied by shouts of indignation and dramatic gestures of outrage as they tried to emphasize their statements. The scene very well could have escalated to something far more violent were it not for the loud, furious barking that drew the entire room's attention to the small raven-haired boy curled in a ball on the floor beside his chair, tears leaking down his cheeks and finger nails drawing blood from his palms where he tried to physically hold the magic back from escaping. Black transformed immediately back into a human, leaning over his Godson with a look of anguish as soon as the others had realized what their fighting was doing.

To the shock of the entire room and clear discomfort of Sirius, it was Mad-Eye and none other than Snape who pushed the others aside to be at Harry's side. Moody's magical eye seemed to be tracing the outline of Harry's body, and he was murmuring a steady stream of updates to the potions master about the points of escape he saw the wild magic spurting from. Severus, for his part, was holding a series of vials in his hands and staring intently into Harry's eyes and for once speaking to the young Gryffindor without a sneer.

"Potter, you need to focus. Stop panicking and focus, damnit! Concentrate inside. You need to find the core of your magic. Feel where it is and start wrapping your magic around it in your mind. Pay attention to what I'm saying Potter! You need to reel the magic back in. Let go of your emotions and become a blank slate. Your emotions are only feeding into your loss of control." Snape's voice was sharp but steady, and he never once faltered in his eye contact with Harry, even when waves of wild magic swept over him.

Harry began to sit up shakily, his lips moving in silent repetition of the instructions being fed to him, clinging desperately to the words as an anchor. Snape held up a hand to silence Moody's quiet report, and the older man quickly limped back from the pair.

"Everyone out." Snape whispered into the silence with icy finality, and even Dumbledore turned to shoo the others from the room without argument, only throwing one last assessing glance over his shoulder to where his potions professor was passing vial after vial to his young patient, lips closed tightly as though literally holding back his words. The only one who remained behind was Serious, but after a single squinty-eyed glare from Snape he transformed silently into his canine form and lay on a rug in the far corner, willing to watch from across the room but not prepared to actually leave.

Snape watched the boy in front of him sharply, more troubled by the bright look of pain in Harry's eyes than he would ever admit. Despite his strong disdain for the spoiled, self-centered son of James Potter, he knew that this predicament at least was out of the boy's control and not the result of yet another reckless scheme. He may not be the most caring teacher, but he had seen more than enough in his lifetime to learn to despise unnecessary pain. Luckily, Potter was a Gryffindor and a hot-headed Potter of a Gryffindor at that; the best way to get him to fight back against the wild magic would be to mock the determination into him, and Severus could hardly complain about that.

"Tsk tsk, hardly stepped back in the wizarding world and you're already wreaking destruction in your path and endangering the lives of everyone around you. Your useless father would have been proud." Snape sneered, keeping a careful ear on the growling coming from the other side of the room and his fingertips brushing over his wand out of self-preservation. He waited for the shouting and whining, or at least the ignorant comeback and self-righteous glare.

Harry's only response was to lower his gaze to the floor between them, and Snape quickly cast a series of spells to check his vitals and magical signature. _Could he have miscalculated the dosage on one of his potions? Was Harry still in pain after all?_ But the scans all came back normal, and Severus' frown deepened. He gathered his thoughts and tried again, though not before casting a wordless silencing charm first. True, Black was no werewolf in his animagous form, but Snape still had no desire to attract the grim-like creature's anger. From over in his corner, Sirius' head perked up and his ears swiveled at the loss of sound from across the room.

"And just think, now you have once again gotten a talent handed to you on a silver platter. You'll be the center of attention without having to even lift a finger in effort; yes your slug scum of a father would be quite proud." Snape scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm. He waited for the typical tantrum or look of hate, but saw only defeat and despair in Potter's eyes and the slump of his shoulders.

Snape sprang to his feet, fighting to continue looking down his nose in distaste while on the inside his thoughts were spinning. Behind him, canine growls could be heard as Sirius rose to his feet, ears pinned back and teeth bared menacingly.

"Try not to do anything especially stupid, Potter." Snape said as way of farewell, unable to bring himself to say anything more cutting when his rival was clearly so damaged already.

"And perhaps that is the first problem," he thought despite himself, as professor and swirling robes vanished into the fireplace, silencing charm dissolving behind him. "It was never the boy who was the enemy."

XxXxXxXxX

Out in the hallway, members of the Order looked on in various degrees of discomfort as Arthur Weasley stood miserably between his wife and twin sons, clearly trying and failing to mediate an argument. While the shouting was muffled down to indecipherable mumblings through the silencing ward Bill had cast around them as soon as he stepped into the hall, there was no hiding the snarling faces and harsh gesture from both sides, or the look of cold dismissal in Molly's eyes. Bill himself had tried to step between them, but Dumbledore had caught his attention and asked softly to speak with him. After a few reluctant looks back towards his family, he had conceded and followed the headmaster to the far end of the hall, where they still stood in hushed conversation.

"Bill, thank you for your quick thinking and help this morning. Remus says you were invaluable in dealing with the Dursleys and getting the Order members away from the scene before the ministry appeared." Bill's gut twisted as he began to see where this was all going, but he forced himself to stay outwardly calm, if for no other reason than the need to get back to his family as quickly as possible.

"Thank you, sir." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled sadly, and Bill new that the white-haired wizard could see right through his act.

"I know I've spoken with you about this possibility, but I had truly hoped to put it off until much later, if at all… your connections with Gringotts are invaluable to the Order, and not only will a return from Egypt to the main branch in Diagon Ally provide much more inside information, but we need your level head and magical talent here, where we can call on it. If you are still willing, it's time for you to transfer back home." It was said in such a way that implied Bill could back out, but both men knew that this was what Bill had committed to when joining the Order, and denying the request would never be an option in his mind. However, that didn't mean he couldn't get something positive out of the move.

"Professor, I will of course go wherever you and the Order need me. If I may, though, I have a favor to ask of you as well."

"Ah?" Dumbledore remarked curiously, bushy eyebrows rising beneath the brim of the bright purple pointed hat he had chosen to wear. "And might this favor have anything to do with the brawl I feel is only moments away behind your silencing ward?" Bill blushed furiously, and looked anxiously towards his family.

"It's Fred and George. They… they're going through a rough patch, just need some time to figure things out. Nothing that could harm the Order, I promise you, but mum… I know she's trying to help, truly, but she may have… overstepped a bit this time? And I don't think it's really helping anyway. If you could just… suggest, maybe…" Bill trailed off, searching for a way to ask for help without incriminating his mother for taking the twins' wands.

"Overstepped how?" He didn't answer the headmaster's question immediately, and the old man smiled kindly. "I'll hardly hold it against her, Bill, whatever it was; I've had a few family disagreements of my own in my time." Bill still looked uncertain, but after a moment of debate and another anxious glance down the hall, he acquiesced.

"She took their wands away, and locked them in separate rooms. She put a securing jinx on them that made the doors disappear. I know she just wanted to make sure they had some time apart, but…" If Dumbledore was surprised or offended by Mrs. Weasley's actions, he didn't show it. Instead, he simply nodded thoughtfully, before asking,

"Is there concern of them harming each other if they are allowed access to their wands?"

"No! No, nothing like that." Bill assured him, tugging nervously on his earring once more, frantic to think of what to say if asked why his mother was upset in the first place.

He need not have worried. Dumbledore simply smiled and nodded to him before striding merrily back up the hallway and brushing Bill's ward aside with a casual wave of his hand. Bill blinked in surprise then merely rolled his eyes at the sheer impossibility that was Albus Dumbledore.

XxXxXxXxX

Alastor Moody stood quietly in the shadows at one end of the hallway and observed the chaos of his fellow Order members with scrutiny. Emotions were high on all sides, but while the Weasley twins had certainly jumped to conclusions in some areas, their accusations held merit. True, the blood-wards at Harry's relatives' home provided protection, but would headquarters not have done exactly the same thing? And how often did Order members fill the kitchen at number 12 and spend hours debating and strategizing the future of the one young man never invited to the planning sessions? Weasley boys his age and older were sheltered from Order happenings to protect their childhoods, and yet Harry took lead in every defense plan discussed.

Moody's magical eye spun around to peer into the next room where Potter knelt, head hanging sorrowfully, and listened to whatever Snape was saying. He thought of the look of fierce determination that had been on the boy's face in the graveyard when he stood to sacrifice himself in hopes of letting the chubby boy (the muggle cousin, he had later learned) escape. How many times had the-boy-who-lived already been expected to act as martyr for the good of others, and to what thanks? No, Moody could easily understand the twins' frustration. What was beginning to really bother him was that Harry himself had yet to express such anger himself. With narrowed eyes, the ex-auror limped across the hallway and slipped into the kitchen while the potions master disappeared into the fireplace once more.

"…just like your father." Sirius was saying as the door snicked shut, and Moody made a mental note of the way Potter flinched away from his godfather's soft words. He resisted the urge to role his eyes at the crestfallen look on the scruffy man's face; he gave the very apt impression of a kicked puppy.

"Potter," Moody growled, "Can you control yer magic boy?" There was neither accusation nor coddling in his voice, and the man waited calmly as Harry sat up straight and met his eyes, considering his answer carefully.

"What Snape said helped," he began carefully. Moody did not move save to blink, waiting for the young man to continue. Harry sighed and shook his head. "No, I don't think I can control it. I'm sor-"

"Not yer fault." Alastor cut in quickly. "Every young witch and wizard goes through this when they come into their full power."

"Does everybody hurt people like I do then?" Harry snapped, his voice cracking guiltily.

"You _didn't_ hurt anyone!" Sirius insisted, and Moody gave him props for stopping himself as he reached out to comfort the boy. "Harry, look at the marks down your body. You did that to make sure no one got hurt." His godson didn't flinch away for once, but he still shook his head despondently.

"But it didn't always work. I kept slipping up, and knocking people over. What happens if I slip up all the way?"

"We won't let that happen." Black promised fiercely. There was a knock on the door, and the others began cautiously filling the room once more. "Come on pup, there's a servant staircase through the back of the pantry, I can take you to Ron and Hermione, or Fred and George." If either of them realized the affectionate term had slipped out, neither acknowledged it. Harry hesitated, but guardedly followed his godfather at a distance. As he passed by Moody, the older man stopped him with a knarled hand on his shoulder.

"We can help you find a way to make sure you don't slip up again, but no guarantee comes without a price," he warned. Harry met his gaze with solemn eyes, shining with a weight far beyond his years.

"I will do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe." He whispered, then slipped into the pantry where Sirius patiently waited.

"That's what worries me, Potter." Moody grumbled after him, turning to where his magical eye showed him the headmaster stood watching.

XxXxXxXxX

Neither Harry nor Sirius had spoken as they followed a series of narrow, dusty hallways and spiraling staircases through the heart of Grimmauld Place. Sirius had briefly explained that they were at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and the house he had been raised in, as he placed his palms on the back wall of the pantry and waited as the shelves slowly separated to reveal a dim opening.

"Do secret passages usually just appear out of nowhere around here?" Harry had questioned, only half joking.

"They do to the head of the Black family line," Sirius answered, before turning to him with an unreadable look. "And to its heir."

Now the silence stretched between them, and Harry chewed his lip nervously as his desire to cling to the comfort Sirius was offering warred against the distrust that had built each day he sat at the Dursleys' without a word from his godfather. He was just pushing himself to say something as they stepped out into the light of a hallway when Sirius yanked him hurriedly away from the secret opening and cleared his throat pointedly. Harry straightened and looked ahead just as Mrs. Weasley turned the corner.

"Harry dear, there you are." Harry didn't miss the cold glint that flashed in her eyes as her gaze passed over the scruffy man next to him, and he felt his loyalty to Sirius strengthen just a little. "Come on now, I brought a nice tray of sandwiches up to the girls' room, we'll get you all tucked in while the Order has their meeting. You're always so thin, poor dear." Harry grimaced as she turned and bustled away, but followed her nonetheless. He wasn't at all sure that he could keep his emotions in check around the others just yet, not when his friends had abandoned him.

He almost asked to stay and talk with Sirius instead, but when he turned back partway down the hall, the older man was gone. He tried to ignore the knot of disappointment in his stomach and followed Mrs. Weasley through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs to a small corner bedroom. Molly smiled encouragingly as he walked past her and knocked hesitantly. Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a blushing red-head, smiling bashfully as she welcomed him.

"Hi Harry," Ginny greeted, stepping back to let him pass. He distantly heard the door shutting again behind him, and high-pitched murmur of excitement as Ginny prattled on about one thing or another, but his attention was focused on the other end of the room, where his best friends sat on either side of a small mountain of parchment. Hermione was wringing her hands nervously in her lap, and Ron was slumped in half, his elbows on his knees and his face half-buried in his hands. Ginny finally trailed off into silence, picking up on the strained hush that hung between the three friends. After this continued awkwardly for several minutes, Harry turned to ask Ginny to give them a few minutes. Before he had the chance, however, Hermione had leapt to her feet and began speaking so rapidly she nearly stumbled over her own words.

"No Harry wait, don't go! Ron and I, we messed up. We know that, and we're so so sorry. Dumbledore forbade us from writing to you and we know that's not an excuse but we really were trying to do the right thing, Dumbledore always has his reasons even when we don't understand them and we just thought-" she cut off, whether to breathe or because she had run out of words, Harry couldn't be sure, but Ron took the opportunity to speak up for the first time.

"I didn't mean to let you down again, mate. Honest. You still mad?" Harry looked from one anxious face to another, and reminded himself that these were his friends; these were the people that had followed him into one dangerous situation after another and had stuck around anyway. He didn't answer, but moved to sit on the bed next to Ron, allowing Hermione to squeeze his hand gently as he passed and bumping shoulders good-naturedly with the other boy as he sat.

"So what's all this then?" He asked, nodding towards the piles of parchment and effectively ending the previous conversation.

"Research," Ron told him with an eye roll towards Hermione, although Harry thought he noticed something a little softer about the look than he remembered.

"I've been going through my notes," the bushy-haired witch cut in, either not noticing the look or choosing to ignore it. "I found everything I could on wild magic, wizarding coming-of-age, and power stabilization. It's not much," she added, almost apologetically, "I really hadn't thought I would have to figure any of this out until after fifth year." Now she bit her lip and looked nervously back at Harry. "I thought we could try to find a way to help you manage all the wild magic," she explained cautiously.

"That would be great, Hermione. Thanks," he assured her forcing a small smile to set her at ease. Her eyes lit up in return and she looked as though she were about to say something else, but just then there was a knock on the door and Sirius pushed his way into the room, Hedwig perched regally on one arm and a series of butterbeer glasses balanced precariously on a tray in his other. With a happy cry, the owl fluttered over to land on Harry's lap, clucking her beak affectionately as Harry laid his cheek against her soft feathers and just held her close for a few moments.

"She won't be up to any long trips for a while, but she should recover fully in no time. I brought you all something to drink… please eat, Harry, you look like you need it nearly as much as your owl does." He looked like her wanted to say more, but instead turned with a soft sigh and reached for the door once more. Just before he left he looked over his shoulder and told them, "If anyone were interested, my brother's personal library is still down at the other end of the hallway, the double doors on the right. I have a feeling Order members will be occupying the main library down on the first floor for the rest of the night." With that he left. Seeing the remark for the clandestine aid it was meant to be, Harry felt the first twinges of guilt for shutting him out.

Before he could dwell on it too long, however, the door swung open yet again and the twins walked in, both quickly scanning the room until their eyes locked on Harry. Without realizing it, he had jumped to his feet upon their entrance and now watched them uncertainly, hands fisted at his side nervously while his hair and clothes fluttered just slightly with a tiny spurt of nervous magic. Wide smiles suddenly appeared on both twins faces as wands were pulled from inside cloaks.

"Free, free at last," George assured him, before his words were cut short by the small boy leaping at him for a hug. Harry managed to loop Fred into it as well, and while it only lasted a moment, the shining in his eyes remained as he pulled away from the twins.

"That's magnificent. Listen, we could use your help with something…" As Harry led the Fred and George over to the others, explaining Hermione's project as he went, he missed the looks that flashed across his best friends' faces.


	11. Chapter 11

~ Chapter Eleven ~

Harry fidgeted impatiently and strained his ears for the sound of Mrs. Weasley's footsteps coming down the hall towards the room he was sharing with Fred. She had argued furiously with Arthur, Bill, and Charlie after Dumbledore persuaded her to return the twins' wands. All three were insistent that neither twin be put in a room alone, and finally the compromise was reached that Ron and Harry, rather than sharing a room with each other as usual, would each share with one of the twins. Ron had grumbled about the arrangement, but Harry secretly felt relieved. His wand was still hidden somewhere back at Privet Drive, which meant that the he would have to forgo silencing charms he usually used when in the wizarding world. He somehow felt safer knowing that if he were to cry out in the middle of the night due to nightmares, it would be one of the twins rather than Ron who would hear him.

The only problem with the arrangement was that Mrs. Weasley was left paranoid that Fred and George would end up sneaking out to find the other in the middle of the night. Research was slow going when all four boys had to rush back to their rooms and fake sleep every hour or so while Molly snuck to each of their rooms to check on them.

There was a soft creak and a beam of light fell across Harry's closed eyes. He held his breath and tried desperately to still his fidgeting, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to leave again. He listened to the soft snoring from Fred and almost wondered if he had fallen asleep for real this time. The door soon shut again and they could hear as the slipper-clad woman shuffled quietly back down the hall.

"Oi, time to go again," a sleepy voice whispered from across the room. Fred was apparently awake after all. Harry reached blindly for his glasses as he struggled out of the blankets in the pitch dark. Just as he slid the broken frames onto his nose there was a soft _lumos_ from beside him and Fred's face appeared inches from his own, watching him patiently. Harry nodded and followed in the older boy's footsteps as they crept carefully from the room and through the old house.

Ron and George had already rejoined Hermione by the time they arrived. Ginny, insisting she needed to be allowed to help if they were using her room, had been acting as look-out all night. Mrs. Weasley wasn't bothering to check in on the girls, so Ginny was able to stay hidden in an alcove near the Weasley parents' rooms, and send Crookshanks slinking past Mrs. Weasley to warn them when she left the room. Hermione, for her part, had not stopped pouring over books and taking notes all night. Usually, she would deliver quick instructions for them as they arrived, and then bury her nose into a book once more, completely ignoring their presence. It was because of this that Harry's stomach churned uneasily as they entered the room to find the other three sitting and waiting for them, Hermione's book closed on her lap and her fingers tapping uneasily over the cover.

"Did you find something?" Harry asked, making his way carefully between stacks of books and parchments to stand next to her as Fred went to sit by George. He didn't miss the way both twins' shoulders relaxed just slightly as their arms brushed together.

"I found… something, yes, but it's just one route to explore, really it only opened up a whole new area of magic for us to look into, we should probably just keep researching, and…" The churning in Harry's stomach had turned into a small hurricane, and he held up a hand to still Hermione's anxious babbling.

"Hermione, just tell me what you found." She hesitated, but at his insistent look she sighed and opened the book to the page she had marked, skimming over it for reference before speaking.

"When witches and wizards marry, there's the same commitment pledges and ceremony like there is in the muggle world, but there's also an entirely separate set of rituals to sort of… bind their magic together; it's called bonding, and it's… complicated. There are different levels that the bond can take, depending on how permanent and involved the couple wants the bond to be, how compatible their magic is, and (here's the weird part) how much the magic of the bond approves of the match." Harry blinked at her stupidly, feeling completely lost.

"Okay… but what does that have to do with me?" Hermione huffed in annoyance, just as she did when she had to explain a homework concept multiple times.

"Two people tie their magic together. Traditionally, the strength of the bond would be permanent, you would be magically bound to the other, and only that one other, for the rest of your lives. Not many people do a full traditional marriage bond anymore, because it's impossible to get out of even in situations where there's cheating or abuse. These days it would usually only be used in the old wizarding families if last-of-lines were trying to unite their family lines, and didn't want one side to be able to undo it. In cases like those, families are usually in a hurry to marry off the last-of-line before a rival family can plan an assassination (not that a family-line-assassination has happened in the last century at least, but pureblood families can be a little paranoid). Families will arrange the bonds and perform them as soon as the witch or wizard has begun to come into their full powers. Until you're legally an adult, your guardian gives consent for you. One of the benefits of the ceremony is that it stabilizes their magic through the bonding itself instead settling in gradually over time. You remember I told you that your magic could take several years to mature, even though it's starting to change already?"

"Wait, are you seriously telling Harry to go off and get hitched? Now?" Ron asked incredulously, looking around the room as though waiting for the others to join in on the joke. "What, is he going to put an ad out in the prophet, 'Saviour of the Wizarding World seeks mature older woman; must be willing to bond with fourteen-year-old,'" he quipped mockingly.

"Honestly Ronald, you're from a pureblood family, don't you know anything about your own traditions?" Hermione snapped back. "Harry wouldn't have to bond with an adult wizard. Some of the example I read about had seven or eight-year-olds married off to other end-of-lines. As long as at least one of them is old enough to be reaching full power, the bond can take hold. Whichever family performs the bonding ceremony itself, that guardian then becomes guardian for the whole couple until one of them turns seventeen. At that point, the older of the two is legal guardian to their bond-mate until they are both of age. It was part of the family-line bargaining; you might be able to join your line to one that was more influential or had more money, but they would control all decisions of the bond fully until the other came into power."

"Seven or eight?!" "That's sick." The twins shot in, both looking paler than usual. Hermione blushed furiously at the implication and rushed to explain.

"Marriage ceremonies are separate from bonding ceremonies, remember? Bonds like these are political agreements, not based on love. Bond-mates often live in separate rooms, sometimes entirely separate houses, and choose separate life-partners to spend their lives with. When both bond-mates were older and ready to produce an heir, there's a potion that can be used to bind the family-lines and family magic into one offspring, and the woman just has to drink it."

"Potion baby, huh?" Fred cut in with a laugh.

"How romantic." George added, fluttering his eyes in a mock-flirtatious manner. Harry himself was feeling exactly the same, and tried to laugh along with Ron and the others, but realized distantly that it felt forced.

"Hermione, I somehow feel that Dumbledore and the rest of the Order are going to be able to come up with something a _little_ more sane than marrying me off at fourteen. Can we get back to researching now?"

"Of course, it was just a thought, like I said." Hermione had been quick, almost too quick, to agree, but as she began shoving books and parchments in all their arms, Harry had the sinking thought that Hermione's theories weren't off all that often.

XxXxXxXxX

Soundlessly, Harry crept into the kitchen as the door was swinging slowly shut behind Kingsly Shacklebolt and made his way slowly past Dumbledore's chair, his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him. He focused inward feeling the magic inside him swirling around, but it held to his core. He would never have expected that advice from Severus Snape would become his lifeline, but the professor's words played over and over in the back of his mind. As long as he didn't start feeling too emotional, he could just sit quietly and listen in on the meeting.

He and his friends had been up all night, scouring stack after stack of books, but they hadn't found any other leads. Once Mrs. Weasley was up for the day and no longer coming to check on her "sleeping" children, Ginny had been bouncing off the walls to help. Harry had finally dug into his trunk to find his invisibility cloak and lent it to the wide-eyed thirteen-year-old, telling her to see what she could find out about the Order's research.

It hadn't taken her long to report back that only a small group of Order members had stayed to work on the problem, and Sirius hadn't been welcomed among them. Ginny recognized Lupin, and Kingsly, but there was another wizard there as well she didn't know. She had also heard that Moody and Snape were working on the problem, but she hadn't seen them.

The second time she came back, she said that her parents were talking with Dumbledore, and that her mum looked excited but her dad looked kind of upset.

Then, not ten minutes earlier, she had rushed into the room out of breath and said that Dumbledore had sent for Snape and Moody and everyone was gathering in the kitchen. She had heard Dumbledore arguing with Lupin about Sirius, but didn't know what they were arguing about because she was trying to get away before Moody showed up.

_Harry's face hardened with determination as he listened to Ginny's latest report. He stood and took his cloak from her, striding purposefully towards the door._

"_Whoa, Harry mate, weren't you listening? Moody is on his way. You know…"_

"…_gimpy leg…"_

"…_funny nose…"_

"…_creepy magic eye that can see straight through your invisibility cloak…"_

"…_you really want to get caught with that in front of Snape?" Fred shuddered at the thought._

"_In front of mum?" George countered, and both boys shuddered this time._

"_I'll just have to hope he doesn't say anything, won't I?" Harry answered stubbornly, opening the door and swinging the cloak over his shoulders. Hermione and Ginny watched the conversation nervously, heads swinging from one speaker to the other. The only one who seemed oblivious was Ron, his brow knit and a strange look on his face as he stood reading in the corner of the room, completely oblivious to anything around him._

"_And why in Merlin's name would you bet on that?!" George wanted to know throwing his arms up in exasperation as Fred made a grab at the empty air where Harry had stood moments before."_

"_Let's go get him," the twins sighed in unison, pulling their wands from their pockets. They hadn't made it to the doorway, however, before-_

"_Expelliarmus!" Both their wands flew across the room and into Ron's outstretched hand. The youngest Weasley brother was somehow managing to look both red and green in the face at the same time, and looked about ready to shoot steam from his ears. "You… you sick freaks!" He hissed in disgust, and the twins' hearts sank as they looked down at the journal laying abandoned at his feet._

Harry had snuck out quickly before Fred and George had a chance to reason with him, and hadn't been around to hear Ron's outburst. He settled down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, careful not to let the cloak slip off his lap. Along with Dumbledore, the small group of wizards Ginny had mentioned sat around the table: Kingsly Shacklebolt and Broderick Bode (supposedly the wizard Ginny had not recognized), deep in a private conversation with their faces nearly pressed together despite the silencing charm Harry could see shimmering around their heads; Remus Lupin, staring down at the table with carefully concealed fury gleaming through his eyes as he listened to Dumbledore whisper softly in his ear; Molly and Arthur sitting together at the opposite end of the table (Molly nearly vibrating with energy and shining with pride while Arthur looked torn between tears and resignation); Snape, lurking in the corner of the room with a scowl firmly in place; and finally Moody, who limped gruffly over to the table after casting a complex series of charms around the room.

Harry was prepared for Alastor's magical eye to land on him through the cloak, and when it happened he calmly held the older man's gaze. Mad-Eye paused for only a fraction of a second before continuing to his place at the table as though he hadn't seen anything.

When Moody sat down, the room fell silent and all eyes turned to Dumbledore. He leaned back from where he had been speaking to Lupin and smiled warmly around the room like a proud father.

"Alastor, Remus, Kinglsy, thank you all for your tireless work and research to find a way to help Harry master his new powers. I know it was a very long night for all of us, but as you all know our task is urgent. Broderick and I believe we have come up with a solution, and now that I have attained Arthur and Molly's agreement, we can put our plan into action." Bode was a sallow-skinned wizard with a very mournful face. Harry vaguely remembered him stopping by their tent during the World Cup the past summer, and he had been among the group of ministry wizards who had shown up after the Dark Mark was cast. He could not imagine why this man was here now as the people closest to him searched for an answer to help him. As Dumbledore spoke, Harry's eyes darted around the room in confusion looking for a hint form anyone in the room. He found none, and the headmaster's next words shocked him into a standstill anyway.

"The quickest and surest way to give Harry full use of his powers is to bind his magic to another source. Now obviously, this is a very serious matter and not without great risks in most cases. However, we have decided on a perfectly safe option: A full, traditional marriage bond which will bind his magic permanently to another's. Broderick has graciously agreed to file the proper paperwork where no one at the Ministry is likely to go searching for it." Harry's heart sank, and he felt numb as he listened to the reactions of others in the room.

"Albus, you must be joking!" Moody rarely spoke out against one of Dumbledore's ideas, and never so vehemently.

"I assure you, Alastor, I have made this decision quite seriously."

"The boy's not yet fifteen years old, and you want to force him into the strongest vow a wizard can make? He's still a kid."

"Which is why I have spoken with Molly and Arthur—"

"Sentiment aside, the Weasley's aren't actually Potter's parents OR guardians, and can't give consent for him. Besides, have you thought what this will mean for him politically? His titles won't stay under your control once he's been bonded, Lily and James's will didn't account for that, and—"

"Alastor, please calm down," Dumbledore interjected, his voice laced with the tiniest trace of anger, but Moody either didn't detect this or didn't care.

"No Albus, I won't stand for this. You're always saying how the Order is a democracy, well I'm casting my vote. That lad's given enough of himself, and I'll be damned if—"

"ALASTOR! The single word resonated with authority and Mad-Eye's uncharacteristic rant was cut short. It wasn't Dumbledore who had plunged the room into silence, however, but Harry. The raven-haired boy stepped purposefully to the head of the table, invisibility cloak abandoned, and though his eyes were downcast, his voice was strong and sure when he spoke.

"It's okay. I told you last night I was prepared to do what was necessary to keep everyone safe."

"Harry, you can't possibly understand what is being asked of you." Lupin whispered urgently, his voice shaking with emotion even at that volume.

"I do though. Hermione spent all night pouring over books and doing her own research. She thought of this hours ago. The traditional wizard marriage bond, when it works, ties the two strands of magic together permanently. Once it's done, it can't be undone. But it would stabilize my magic in moments rather than years." It was almost word for word how Hermione had summarized it for him, but he doubted even she would grumble about copying given the circumstances.

Harry's stomach churned as he remembered how he had been all too ready to dismiss the idea, sure that Dumbledore and his team of Order members would find some other, better solution. Hermione had been quick to agree and return to her research with an even more urgent purpose. Harry had seen the look in her eyes, though, and even if he hadn't been ready to admit it then, he knew that look well; Hermione's internal war when she had discovered the answer to a particularly difficult problem, but disliked it so much that she was willing to go against her nature and entertain the possibility of being wrong.

"Harry, this isn't how I planned on you finding out…" Dumbledore began uncomfortably glance shooting briefly to Mad-Eye, and Harry had to back into the corner of the kitchen as magic whipped around him in anger. He reined it in after a moment, but stayed where he was while he answered, just in case.

"No, you intended for me to find out once all the other pieces were in place. I'm a minor so you need my guardian's permission to perform the ceremony." Here, his eyes were drawn to the potions master, mouth pursed as though being forced to taste something particularly unpleasant. Harry's stomach flipped as more details started to make sense. "I bet that's why Snape is here. You know Sirius would never agree to this, but if Snape calls in his life-debt from all those years ago at Hogwarts then he won't have a choice. You'll pick the person you feel is best suited to become 'Harry Potter's new keeper,' and that's who I'll marry. If my guardian consents to the ceremony, I don't legally have say to stop it. Then, Sirius… Sirius won't be my guardian anymore…" His voice broke, and even the potion master shifted uncomfortably.

"We are at war. All of us must make sacrifices for the good of the many." Kingsly's deep voice carried over the quiet room, the comment catching Harry off guard. There was accusation in the tone, and it stung.

_When have I ever failed to do what was needed of me?_ He thought bitterly to himself, refusing to meet anyone's eye. _When have I ever said no, despite the consequences, despite the risks?_ When he answered, however, he simply repeated,

"I will do what is needed to keep everyone safe."

Dumbledore stood carefully from the table, turning to face Harry but knowing better than to approach him and back him more fully into a corner when he was already feeling so trapped.

"I see that you are looking at this as a negative event and I am sorry for that Harry. We have truly done all we can to make you happy in your marriage. We needed someone whose magic was, for lack of a better term, "earthy" enough, to be compatible with your wild magic. The easiest way was to match you with someone whose magic was still rather free as well." Now he smiled widely, a sparkle in his eyes. "After all these years fancying you, I'm sure young Ginny will be thrilled with the marriage her parents have arranged for her."

XxXxXxXxX

"You… you sick freaks!" Ron hissed in disgust, and the twins' hearts sank as they looked down at the journal laying abandoned at his feet.

"Ron, what's gotten into you?!" Hermione snapped, but Ron ignored her save to pull her roughly behind him as though guarding her from the twins.

"Ginny, come over here," he demanded. Ginny, however, narrowed her eyes dangerously and slowly slid her hand into her robes, no doubt searching for her own wand.

"You're not the boss of me!"

"Ginny, I said COME OVE—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" This time, three wands went clattering across the room, the twins quickly diving for their own while Ron scrambled after his. Crookshanks hissed from her place on the bed and Hedwig and Pig both let their own disapproval be heard. As all five witches and wizards drew their wands and circled each other, the room was filled with the chaos and confusion of far too many people trying to be heard at once.

"—you prat, calm down—"

"—don't want you anywhere _near_ her—"

"—can take care of myself, you—"

"—of all the childish, _stupid_—!"

"—hadn't been snooping in the first place—"

Hermione and Ginny were just stepping between the angry brothers in an attempt to break up the row when the house shook with such a strong boom of magic that all five of them crashed to the floor. Sporadic tremors kept them off-balance as they all tried to gain their footing once again. Ron held a hand to his face, trying to stem the flow of blood from where his nose had broken upon falling into a dresser. Hermione crawled slowly towards where Ginny lay on her side, bent over as she gingerly held one of her ankles between her hands, wand rolling forgotten across the floor. George was trying to wrap his arms comfortingly around Fred while at the same time coaxing his wand hand away from where it held his opposite wrist, hanging limply at an odd angle.

"George, I'm fine. We need to go."

"No, you're hurt. Just let me…" There was another strong burst of magic from lower in the house, and Fred used his good hand to raise his brother's chin so their eyes met.

"George," he whispered, trying to communicate a million things with a single look.

"We help Harry, and then you let me baby you as much as I want until you're better." Fred nodded and smiled softly at the fierce determination on his twin's face. With a final glance back at the others to assure no one was in any immediate danger, the two brothers helped each other to their feet and began stumbling down the hallway towards the sound of shouting.

Fred and George had just reached the first floor when they met Sirius. He was slipping out from a doorway neither had noticed before, several viles of potions in his hands.

"What happened?" Fred demanded. Sirius glared at him in annoyance.

"Not now." There was another wave of magic, followed by Harry's angry shouts, and Black swore under his breath before carefully placing the vials between his teeth and transforming into his animagus form. He bounded ahead of them into the kitchen, leaving the two boys to stare at each other in concern.

"We need to get him out of here," George whispered. "Fred, what if…"

"…are you sure? It's our only…"

"…I know. But Harry _needs_ this…" George trailed off uncertainly even as Fred fumbled to slide Charlie's ring off his finger.

"Harry needs _us_," he agreed. He raised his wand and muttered "_accio invisibility cloak_." A moment later, he felt the light weight of the silky material pool into his outstretched hands. "I'll stay by the door, distract them. I don't want Harry seeing my wrist anyway. Remember, three taps." With one last look at his brother, George took the ring and then the cloak, disappearing beneath it. Fred waited long enough for his brother to have slipped across the kitchen, then aimed his wand at the kitchen door and backed carefully away, bringing to mind the image and emotions of seeing his life's work go up in flames. "Incendio," he said with deathly calm, and he quickly looked for a place to hide as he heard the witches and wizards inside turn their attention to the flaming door. He was inching his way along a side hallway when arms wrapped suddenly around his waist and mouth from behind and he was pulled backwards, seemingly into the wall itself. The magical tremors had stopped, but he was sure his muffled cries were still not heard above the nearby shouting.


	12. Chapter 12

~ Chapter Twelve ~

Charlie just barely had time to register the gentle shimmer in the wards as one of the reserve portkeys dropped someone outside his cabin before a wave of magic shook the walls and toppled him off his feet. He scrambled along the floor after his wand, sporadic spurts of powerful magic knocking him down several more times before he got to it and rolled to the door. All he could think of was Voldemort and an attack on his dragons - and Norbert, sleeping just outside. He flung open the door, curse on the tip of his tongue, but sagged back against the doorframe in shock without uttering a word.

Harry Potter knelt on the ground a few dozen feet from his hut. His face was buried in his hands and he was rocking slightly, the anguish and pain clear from what little bits of his expression Charlie could make out. Around him, dirt, leaves, and twigs blew into the air in a torrent, as though a miniature tornado had struck Earth right where the small boy huddled. He looked to Norbert, terrified of how to protect Harry from the young dragon's fear and anger, but was stunned to see his wings folded back calmly, only the soft sound of quiet hissing escaping as he looked on almost sadly at the struggling young man.

With Norbert no longer a worry, Charlie dropped to his knees and began to crawl unsteadily toward Harry. Charlie had always been drawn to dragons. The world saw them as invincible and dangerously powerful, but they were so misunderstood. They were only truly dangerous when they or their loved ones, their family, was threatened. Charlie had dedicated his life to protecting what no one else saw as needing protection, and as he crept cautiously toward the struggling teenager, Charlie's need to protect far over-shadowed any fear of the hazardous and potent magic swirling around him.

Suddenly, Harry looked up and met his eyes, noticing him for the first time, and everything around them seemed to stand still. Charlie lost himself in the brilliant green of those eyes, and his mind drifted back to other times he had gazed into their depths.

_Harry's eyes had very nearly sparkled with awe and respect when he had seen the dragons in the forest his fourth year. Charlie had promised not to interfere in the tournament when he came to handle the dragons for the first task, but something had pushed him to drop hints to first Ron and then Hagrid, and he had been surprisingly relieved when he glanced up one evening to see the raven-haired seeker watching the dragons with wonder from his hiding place at the edge of the clearing. _

_Harry had been the only champion determined not to harm his dragon during the task, trying to evade her rather than attack. Charlie had watched him cast the protection spell over the other eggs, allowing himself to get burned in order to complete the spell. Later, when Charlie went to congratulate him, Harry had looked up at him with guilt and apologized for the eggs harmed by the other champions. The heart-breaking sincerity had stunned Charlie, and by the time his brain was working enough to form a response, Harry was being dragged away by Gryffindor admirers to celebrate the victory._

Charlie shook his head and pulled himself back to the present, seeing the same shame and guilt that had plagued Harry months earlier reflected out to him once more, and without thinking he began speaking, saying all the things he should have said back then.

"You've done everything you can. I know it may not feel like it, but sometimes doing the right thing isn't about stopping everyone from getting hurt, it's about keeping as many people safe as you can. Let it go, Harry. You did good. You were brave and strong and willing to make sacrifices, now it's time to rest." There was silence after his words, a silence that stretched and cracked with the tension of the moment. Then, so subtly he almost missed the change, Charlie felt the air around them begin to slow. He slowly turned his head to look at Norbert and immediately froze once more.

Just as they had the day before, dragons were emerging from all over the reserve, heads raised high into the air in salute, slowly circling the side of Charlie's cabin that was within the wards. Slightly in front of them all was Norbert, his wings unfurled to their full span, unmoving where they stretched out to his sides and above his head like a crown. Other trainers were stumbling out of their cabins, leaning back against doorways in amazement, wands held loosely at their sides.

Charlie looked quickly back at the small wizard ahead of him to see if he had noticed, but his eyes were closed, hands open loosely on his knees as though in meditation, and more and more of the magic around him melting into the air. Charlie decided it was safe to move closer and warily got to his feet before approaching the boy.

"Harry?" He asked softly when he was within feet of the other man. Long eyelashes fluttered before he was once again looking at deep pools of green partially hidden by wild, windswept hair, and Charlie thought to himself once more that Ron's fourteen-year-old best mate was very quickly reserving Charlie a very special place in hell.

"Harry, stay calm, but you have a bit of an audience…" Charlie warned gently, beginning to accept that there was nothing else to have drawn the attention of the dragons who were still arriving out of the forest of the reserve to join the throng, necks swaying into the air and low hissing whispering throughout the herd.

Harry's brow knit in confusion and he turned where he knelt, eyes widening and mouth dropping open in shock.

"This day just keeps getting better," he said softly, and Charlie was startled into a bright chuckle despite the gravity of the situation. He cut himself off quickly, however, as Norbert lowered his body to the ground once more and began slinking right towards them, the other dragons casually lowering themselves to a more typical stance as well and watching the scene with a calculating air. Charlie reached out to pull Harry behind him, no longer worried about residual wild magic, but before he could, Harry's startled laugh rang through the air and he spoke to the approaching dragon.

"Norbert?!" The dragon stopped and settled onto his haunches, head tilted to the side as though processing the words. "Wow, look how much you've grown, you're gorgeous!" Norbert snorted at that, rumpling his scaly wings as though in indignation. Charlie tensed as he prepared to jump in at any moment, particularly concerned with the puff of smoke that wafted towards them at Norbert's snort, but Harry seemed unconcerned. "Alright, alright, not gorgeous then… striking? Dashing? That better?" He humored the restless dragon. At this, Norbert puffed up in what was clearly pride, and Charlie very nearly dropped his wand in astonishment. _Could Norbert actually understand what Harry was saying?_

Charlie started to object when boy and dragon began walking towards each other, but somehow knew it would be pointless. Harry stopped a few yards away, arm outstretched and waiting. Norbert watched him for a few moments, as though sizing him up, then moved forward until he could bump his scaly snout against Harry's palm. Charlie looked on in awe and jealousy as Harry calmly slid his fingers along the dragon's strong jaw, smiling warmly at the creature.

Cautiously, Charlie moved forward as well. He froze when Norbert turned to meet his gaze and stilled beneath Harry's palm, but the raven-haired boy was unfazed and spoke soothingly, smiling at Charlie over his shoulder when he saw where the dragon's attention had gone.

"That's right, Norbert, there's a good dragon. Is that Charlie coming to visit as well? Has he taken good care of you here in Romania? I told you he would, remember? Boy, would Hagrid love to see how much you've grown…" As Norbert settled contentedly onto the ground in front of the young wizard, Charlie wondered if Harry had any idea how bizarre it was that he was within flame-distance of a young dragon and _not_ being burnt to a crisp, much less petting him and talking to him like a puppy of all things.

"Harry, not that it's not great to see you, really, but I have to say I'm a little curious as to how you ended up here." Harry turned his back on Norbert, sliding down the dragon's side to sit leaning against him. Charlie froze and almost shouted a warning, but Norbert just watched the two of them lazily though half-lidded eyes, his tail twitching calmly every so often.

As Harry told him about his bursts of magic and the Order's plans to control it, Charlie's heart ached for the tormented young man. It would seem that once again, Harry was to be the exception to every rule.

"Nothing is mine, not really," Harry was saying a while later, scratching into the ground next to him absent-mindedly while he spoke. "I don't have my own parents, my own home… my future isn't even mine. I'm here to fight Voldemort, until I stop getting lucky and he kills me." Charlie tried to object but Harry cut him off and charged on. "No, Charlie, it's true. I'm the-boy-who-lived. People _need me to be_ the-boy-who-lived. I give hope. I know what it's like to live without that, and it's… well, it's not even living. I don't mind, not really; it's nice to be needed I guess."

"What do _you_ need, Harry?" The red-head pleaded, desperate for some way he could help erase the haunted look from those deep green eyes.

"I need…" he trailed off, and Charlie let him. He could see that the hesitation was not coming from holding back the answer, but from needing to consider for the first time what his needs were. The older man felt his anger growing, wanting to curse anyone and everyone who had ever let this remarkable boy believe that his own needs and feelings did not matter.

At last, Harry pulled his knees closer and hung his head, Charlie forced to lean forward and hold his breath to hear the words Harry now whispered brokenly into his lap.

"I need control over something in my life, I need to make a decision that's all mine, that no one can un-do or take away from me, that everyone can see is mine." Harry tugged on the short sleeves of his shirt and tried to flatten his unruly bangs as he finished sharing his secret wish, before glancing vulnerably up at the older man. Just like that, Charlie understood.

"It's the scars, isn't it? You can deal with knowing in your own mind that everyone expects so much of you, but the scars…"

"They mark me," Harry whispered. "They show everyone what I've been through and what I'll have to do. I don't get a past, with a family who loved me and taught me things. I don't get a future, with someone who I'll fall in love with and feel safe with and make my own family with. I understand that's just how it is for me. But the scars… imagine not having your pain or your memories or your fears ever be just your own. Imagine having to share them every day with everyone you know, with people you've never met! I hate that this," harry gestured towards his forehead, "that these," he pulled on his neckline to let the angry red burn scars left over on his shoulder peek out, "that they define me." He looked up with eyes flashing bright and passionate and Charlie just shook his head in bewilderment.

"They don't!" He insisted. "Who you are defines what the scars mean. No, listen Harry." He placed a gentle finger under the other's chin when Harry tried to turn away, and coaxed his face back up until their eyes locked once more. "When you-know-w- when Voldemort gave you that scar, most people would have let it show that they were a hero, worthy of praise and special treatment. Some would have hidden behind it, using it as proof that they paid their dues to the fight, and no one would have begrudged them hiding away in peace for the rest of their lives. On you that scar shows that you will fight Voldemort over and over again because in your heart, you know that you will never turn away from someone you might be able to help." He paused to lay both hands on Harry's shoulders, fingers curling around to his back and massaging it lightly, once more stamping down any less-than-PG thoughts with a guilty twinge in his gut. "And these? On anyone else, these scars would show a broken soul. They'd be an excuse for hatred and anger that no one could blame you for. But on you they mean love and compassion, wanting to ease the pain in others whether they deserve it or not. That is not a weakness, Harry; that is your greatest strength."

"How is it a strength if it's going to let Voldemort win? Kingsly said everyone needs to make sacrifices in war, your mum was nearly glowing at the idea of me and Ginny m-… married. How am I supposed to be strong enough to help anyone at all if I would rather let my magic stay wild and lose to Voldemort than let your sister marry me? It's not even like she doesn't like me, she'd probably say yes, but I'm not… I can't…" He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. "We wouldn't ever be in love, and I don't think I can let myself do that to her."

Charlie turned to sit next to Harry, only hesitating slightly before leaning back against Norbert as well. The dragon blinked over in their direction for a moment at the feeling of a second body against his side, then resettled and breathed deeply in sleep once more. Charlie took a moment to relish the thrill that shot through him as he felt live dragon hide for the very first time, where it pressed against his bare arms. Only a moment, however, before his brow furrowed and he tried to find words to comfort the lost boy sitting beside him.

"If we try to take peace back by force… if we let ourselves sacrifice one who is innocent and defenseless, even for the sake of many, then are we even fighting for a world worth saving?" He knew Bill was much better with words, and wished his big brother was there now to take his hand and guide him through this new territory as he had through so many others in their lives.

"I... don't understand." Harry finally replied, sighing in frustration and sliding his hands exasperatedly through his hair, letting his head rest there where it hung down in defeat.

"That's okay, Harry. I don't think I'm explaining myself very well, anyway." Harry made a gesture that may have been a nod, and the two sat in silence for a while, the warm rise and fall of Norbert's side creating a soothing background to the gentle, fresh breeze of the reserve. Charlie, for his part, tore pieces of long grass into tiny pieces, holding his hand to the wind after each blade to watch the fragments float away, and occasionally flexing his left arm to watch the little dragon tattoo there furl out its wings before resettling.

Just then, Charlie noticed several of the dragons tracking movement off to his right and glanced that way to see Petru inching his way toward the pair of wizards, still staying well back by the line of huts. When he reached Charlie's cabin, he subtly motioned with his fingers and Charlie, with a last uneasy glance at Harry, slowly stood and backed away until he, too, stood leaning against his cabin door.

"Charlie, what in Merlin's name is going on here?" There was annoyance and suspicion in the tone, but it was overshadowed by concern and an almost grandfatherly indulgence, so Charlie figured he was alright.

"Truthfully şef? I have no idea." At that moment, Harry cried out in pain and fell to the ground, and every dragon on the reserve cried with him, the air filled with an eerie gale of dragon hissing.

XxXxXxXxX

Fred clawed at the arm covering his mouth with his good hand, panicking until the body behind him pulled them into a lit room and Fred looked around wildly only to see George calmly standing off to one side.

"I'm bleeding, you arse," he heard Sirius's voice quip as the arms released him and he realized that it was Black who had snatched him from the hallway and dragged him into what looked like a large, plush study, although there were no obvious doors into the room. "My great-great-grandfather had it put in, apparently," Sirius explained, seeing the questioning look in Fred's eyes. "The house will only reveal its location to the current Lord Black."

"Okay…" Fred said dumbly, holding his wrist close to his chest and having a hard time seeing past the pain to connect the dots as to why he had just been abducted and brought to this secret little room. Sirius was frowning down at his injury, though, and didn't appear to have noticed his confusion.

"George, grab the chair. Fred, sit down and let me take a look at that. Here, drink this." He held out one of the vials he had been bringing to Harry and Fred eyed it cautiously. "Simple pain reliever, that's all. It looks like it's just a fracture, so I should be able to heal it for you, but I'm not very fast, so you're going to be in pain for a while." Fred nodded, and drank down the bitter solution as George gently guided him down onto a plush office chairs. As Sirius began muttering and waving his wand over the injury, George caught his twin's eye and raised his eyebrows in question.

"He saw my hand slip out of the cloak when I put the ring on Harry's finger. It was hard to keep everything covered when I was that close to the waves of magic. He said he needed to talk to me, and then when mum started going on about how we must have been behind the flaming door incident–wicked job, by the way…"

"…thanks, I try…" Fred cut in, grinning.

"…so mum was saying how this proved how irresponsible we were, 'little hooligans' I believe was the phrase she used at one point…"

"…classy woman, our mum…"

"…and Sirius said he'd go and get you."

"Thanks mate," Fred said earnestly, but Black waved it aside, still focusing on the injured wrist, tiny droplets of sweat forming on his brow as he concentrated. Finally, Fred felt his arm go deeply relaxed and he carefully rotated his wrist, smiling when there was no stiffness or pain. Sirius sat back on his heels, panting slightly from the effort, and tucked his wand away.

"Right. Now that that's taken care of, where the bloody hell is my godson?"

The twins sobered quickly, watching the other man wearily while they carefully considered what to say.

"We can't tell you that…"

"…or won't tell you that…"

"…not until we know you deserve to know…"

"…_do_ you deserve to know?" Sirius hung his head rubbed his palms guiltily over robe-covered thighs..

"Please," he pleaded brokenly, "At least tell me if he's somewhere safe."

"Since when do you care if he's somewhere safe? You didn't seem too concerned for his safety when you abandoned him for weeks with muggle relatives who starved and abused him and—" Fred would have kept going, his anger building and the pain potion he had taken getting rid of his verbal filter, but George grabbed his brother's arm harshly, stopping him from saying anything else. Not only would Harry be furious with them when he found out they had broken his confidence, but Sirius obviously could not handle any more details just now. The older man had paled so quickly at Fred's words he looked like he might pass out. He did, in fact, summon a waste basket and empty the contents of his stomach harshly into it.

"I didn't know… Oh Merlin, I swear I didn't know, he never said…" The sight of a grown man, one who had survived years in Azkaban, kneeling before them and sobbing bitterly into his hands was enough to leave both young men shaken. George stepped past his brother, who was fidgeting guiltily and biting his lips together as though just now realizing all that he had let slip. He knelt down and looked Sirius straight in the eyes before speaking.

"You know now," he said firmly, neither accusation nor forgiveness in his voice. "Harry's with Charlie, he'll be safe. Charlie already helped take care of Harry once this summer when he… was hurt," he finished lamely, but Sirius mercifully didn't press the issue just then. George hesitated, wanting desperately to trust this man who so obviously cared and had acted as their ally so many times that summer, but he still needed to understand why Harry hadn't once heard from his godfather the entire summer; why Sirius hadn't gone to check on the boy himself when there was no word from his godson. As though reading his thoughts, Black began speaking in a shaky voice.

"Dumbledore told me at the beginning of the summer that the ministry had placed an illegal trace on my magical signature. Here, I'm hidden behind fidelius. But all I would have to do would be step past the threshold or send a letter by owl-post and the Ministry would be led right outside headquarters. I had no idea that those slug-scum relatives of his hurt him, but I knew Harry hated it there. Headquarters was the only way I saw to get him out. I was just trying to protect him." He looked up at them then, emotion swimming in his gaze. "I thought he needed at least one person to put his happiness first."

"Maybe more than one," Fred said suddenly from behind them. George turned to see him holding a small folded piece of parchment, eyes shining with determination. "There's already an Order looking out for the-boy-who-lived… maybe there needs to be one for Harry, too."

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie ignored Petru and the other handlers as they shouted for him to stay back. His only thought as he sprinted across the lawn was making sure Harry was alright. Norbert paced restlessly nearby, circling in a little closer each time he passed Harry's still form, but Charlie hardly noticed. When he got to Harry, he pulled the smaller boy effortlessly into his arms and quickly looked for a heartbeat. It was there, clear as day, but rapid, and Harry was breathing quick and sharp, his eyes unfocused and scar standing out too bright on his pale forehead. Charlie shook him gently, repeating his name over and over, and then suddenly the hissing from the dragons stopped and Harry curled in on himself a few dry sobs escaping his lips although he was clearly fighting to hold it back.

"Easy Harry, I've got you. It's okay." Charlie took a steadying breath, realizing his arms were shaking from adrenaline where he held the frightened young man and he fought to still the tremors.

"V-Voldemort." Harry stammered out, body trembling and teeth chattering as though ice filled his veins. "I saw—He's furious. He knows someone close to him is leaking information to Dumbledore, he's just not sure who. It's gotta be about Snape. I need to get back to headquarters, I have to warn the Order, I—"

"Whoa hey, hey hey hey, calm down." Charlie shifted Harry more fully into his arms and rose carefully to his feet, carrying the boy slowly towards his cabin. He once again ignored Petru and the others as he strode into his cabin, shutting and locking the door behind him pointedly. It wouldn't keep a wizard out who really wanted to get in, of course, but it did send his message loud and clear: visitors not welcome. Setting Harry carefully on his bed, he sat down beside him and tried to make his body language as calm and confident as possible, hoping his demeanor would be contagious. "Now try that again. How do you know this?"

"M-my scar," Harry explained, still shivering although it seemed to be easing up. "I get visions sometimes, when he's really mad. I see what he sees, hear what he's saying. He was talking to Nagini, his snake, telling her that he knows one of his inner circle is leaking information. He's going to set a trap for the spy, start telling each of them certain things, and wait to see whose info gets back to the Order. Snape's the spy, he needs to know what's going on." Charlie nodded slowly, careful to mask his shock and horror that Harry saw into the mind of the madman who had murdered his parents.

"Yes, he'll need to know. But we have time, Harry. Let's figure out what's happening with you and this whole bonding idea first, okay? You'll get your warning out on time, this isn't an emergency yet." His words and tone were comforting, but inside his mind was racing. Harry, the golden-boy, boy-who-lived and now boy-who-had-secret-visions-of-Voldemort's-plans needed to bond at fourteen and the Order (which was filled with aurors, ministry officials, and defense masters) wanted him settled down with Ginny? Something didn't feel right.

Charlie was startled out of his thoughts by a tapping at the window. He looked up and had to hold back a groan of annoyance seeing Erol once again. Harry let him in and took the parchment, reading through it swiftly. He absently pointed out some scraps when Harry asked, and let the younger boy feed the owl after his long flight.

**Charlie,**

**Come to headquarters right away. Order business.**

**Dad.**

**_(PS- Ron found out about the twins, which means that by _****_this time Hermione and Ginny probably know as well. _****_Ron didn't take it well. Thought you would want to know.)_**

"Charlie?" He looked up to see Harry biting his lip nervously, and realized he had probably been quiet for too long.

"It's fine, I need to go to headquarters. My guess, it has something to do with your mysterious disappearance. Since no one has shown up yet to take you back, I'm taking it they have no idea you're here." Harry didn't say anything, but his brow knit with worry.

"Hey, it's nothing to worry about, I promise. I'll see what I can find out on that end, and then we'll talk this whole thing through, okay?" He waited for Harry's nod, then placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay here while I'm gone. Try to get some rest, I'll be back as soon as I can." He looked over his shoulder one last time when he reached the door, and forced himself to let it swing shut behind him despite the lost look on Harry's face as he stood in the middle of the tiny cabin, looking so small. Charlie strode quickly past the wards of the reserve and headed to the nearest public floo access. The sooner he got to headquarters, the sooner he could get back.


	13. Chapter 13

~ Chapter Thirteen ~

Charlie stepped through the fireplace into headquarters and right into what looked like the central hub of war-zone battle strategizing. All over the room were stacks of books and parchments, half-empty bottles of ink and broken quills. Maps lay on tables, tacked up on cupboards, even magically suspended in thin air while Order members ducked and dodged around them, talking a mile-a-minute as they jumped from one frantic conversation to another. In one corner of the room, a small patch of floor space was left empty, several wizards gathered around it as they wove intricate tracking spells around the area. Charlie realized this must have been the spot that Harry disappeared from and watched them carefully for a moment. None seemed to be anywhere in the ballpark of following an untraceable portkey, however, so Charlie left well enough alone.

He spotted his parents off to one side of the room, and made his way towards them, dodging people and parchment as he went.

"Dad, mum," he greeted. "What's going on?"

"Harry's vanished," Molly told him tearfully, and hugged her son close as though all disagreements from the last time he saw her had never happened. Charlie patted her back awkwardly, and looked to his father.

"Dumbledore is calling in an emergency meeting. Harry was attacked by dementors at his aunt and uncle's house yesterday, and your brother and some others brought him back here." Charlie, who had been preparing himself to act appropriately surprised, needn't have worried; how anyone could forget to mention a dementor attack was beyond him, but the shock on his face was certainly sincere enough.

"What?!" His father nodded gravely at his reaction.

"Yes, we were all rather caught off guard. What's more though, Harry is already starting to come into his full powers. Dumbledore says we can't afford to have his magic unsteady for as long as it will take for them to stabilize, so we—" Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat sharply, and Charlie was surprised when his normally even-tempered father snapped at her. "It's his family that's involved here, he has a right to know what's going on!" Arthur turned back to his son. "Dumbledore has asked us to allow Ginny to be bonded to Harry in a full traditional wizarding bond. When Harry found out, he got upset and lost control of his magic. Next thing we knew he was gone, and no one has been able to track him yet. Dumbledore is calling in everyone he can, wants to send out search parties to all the places we think Harry might go to hide. He's just waiting on those of you who couldn't be reached directly by floo…" He trailed off and nodded towards the front of the room where Albus had just walked in. The room slowly fell quiet as the others noticed his presence and turned to face him as well.

"Thank you all for coming," the headmaster began, for once looking and sounding as old as his years. "It is imperative that Harry is found and returned safely to headquarters as soon as possible. As most of you know already, Harry's magic is currently in a fragile state; he is in no position to defend himself against Voldemort or his followers." Dumbledore paused as many in the room shuddered hearing the name. "Now, what I would like—"

"And what then?" The room murmured in confusion as they looked for the source of the interruption. Sirius stepped through the doorway from behind Albus, the twins following in his wake. "Once he's 'returned safely to headquarters,' how do you plan on stopping him from disappearing again? He's not some magical artifact to be tactfully recovered from the hands of the enemy and placed on a shelf until you need him again. He's a boy, a scared boy who doesn't understand what is happening to his magic and left when no one would give him a say in his own future. Where are your charts and maps and teams of researchers to help him feel safe once you find him?"

"Sirius believe it or not, you are not the only one in this room who values Harry's happiness! Now I understand your frustration but right now keeping Harry alive is my top priority, and if you can't get on board with that then leave." Charlie watched as Black's anger deflated at the headmaster's scolding. This time, when Dumbledore began speaking, no one interrupted.

"Right. Minerva, Rubeus, you will take your teams in a search of Hogwarts castle and grounds." As he gave his instructions, lists of names magically appeared in front of McGonagall and Hagrid, who immediately began gathering Order members with them.

"Bill, you will return to Privet Drive and search the neighborhood. Molly, Arthur, go to the Burrow. Search anywhere Harry might have gone while visiting your family." More lists appeared, and slowly the kitchen began to empty out, save for the groups of witches and wizards still attempting to trace Harry's magical signature.

"Nympha—Tonks," Dumbledore caught himself just as the witch in question began to turn an angry shade of red. "Track down the night-bus. Search it and question any passengers tactfully; we don't want to raise suspicion. Will you be fine on your own?" At her nod, Dumbledore turned to Charlie.

"Charlie, I want you to search Hogsmeade, particularly the passages between there and the castle. Normally, I would send Remus with you, but with it being so close to the full moon…" For the first time, Charlie noticed that the greying wizard was absent from the room. The headmaster hesitated for a moment, then turned to where the twins still stood in the doorway. "Fred, George… I stand by my decision that you are too young to be in the Order, but if you wish to assist your brother in this particular case…" Identical nods answered before the question had even finished, and Charlie thanked his good luck that it had been so easy to find the opportunity to speak to his brothers alone. As he followed the twins through the floo into the Three Broomsticks, Charlie heard Dumbledore behind him organizing teams to search the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, and muggle London. Just before the flames swept him away, his eyes locked with Black's from across the room, and he gave a nearly imperceptible nod at the questioning look in the animagus' eyes.

XxXxXxXxX

Fred, George, and Charlie sat in the tunnel that connected Honeydukes to Hogwarts and passed around a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they discussed the raven-haired seeker that had pushed his way into all of their hearts.

"You know he's going to go through with a marriage bond…"

"…bloody martyr…"

"…and even we can't help him sneak out of that," the twins were saying. Charlie had filled them in on what Harry had told him since arriving at the reserve, and neither boy was any more hopeful than Charlie that Harry would put himself first for once and look for a way out of bonding.

"He sees not bonding as putting others in danger," Charlie summed up, "it won't even be an option for him."

"It's not fair," they answered together.

"Charlie," Fred began nervously. "How far are you willing to go to keep Harry safe?" Charlie startled at the challenge in his brothers' eyes and his mind immediately began inventing crazier and crazier reasons that Fred would be asking.

"As far as I would go to keep the two of you safe," he answered honestly. He waited as the twins had one of their wordless conversations. At last, they pulled out their wands and turned to Charlie. George pulled a piece of parchment from his robes and unfolded it to reveal the letter Charlie himself had hastily written after returning to Romania from Privet Drive. Now, though, there was an extra line of writing at the bottom: _On my life, magic, and honor, I swear with Merlin as my witness to defend this little dragon, from both dark and light. I commit myself now to the Order of the Dragon, and make this Unbreakable Vow in promise that I will stand true to my word for as long as life permits. _Beneath this were signatures from both Fred and George, as well as Sirius.

Charlie sat frozen as the unspoken question hung in the air. His brothers had made an unbreakable vow of loyalty to Harry. Was he willing to do the same? If it came down to a choice between allegiance to Dumbledore (who despite whatever else could be said about him, had only ever acted on noble motivations and was quite possibly the sole reason that the free wizarding world still stood) or protecting Harry, what choice would he make?

Charlie remembered the twelve-year-old boy, blood-stained and battered, staring back at him from across the headmaster's office. He thought of the pain in Harry's eyes as he told Charlie of his vision, gaze haunted as he held the weight of a world on his shoulders. Finally, he imagined an eight-year-old Harry, cradling a broken arm to his chest as he left pinecones at a stranger's grave. His eyes rose to meet his brothers' and he held out his wand arm.

"I will make the vow."

XxXxXxXxX

Sirius Black ignored the single tear that rolled down his cheek and clung to his chin. The silky feel of the invisibility cloak between his fingers brought back a thousand memories of slipping beneath it with James Potter and wreaking mischief like Hogwarts had never seen. James was gone now, but his son… their son… was not. Sirius buried his face in the cool material as memories surrounded him.

"_He's beautiful, James," Sirius whispered in awe, delicately brushing his fingers over the perfectly smooth cheek of the sleeping infant._

"_He's perfect," his best friend corrected, swelling with pride as he looked down at his new son. "Harry is absolutely perfect." Sirius grinned goofily at the look of pure wonder on the face of his normally cool-and-collected pal._

"_You did good," he agreed._

"_Him? I'm the one who's been walking around with another person growing inside me for the past nine months! I'm the one who just pushed a human being out of my—" Sirius laughed merrily as James' face turned scarlet and cut Lily off with a soft kiss to her cheek._

"_You did great," he assured her. She smiled, seemingly placated, and then glowed as she locked eyes with her husband. Sirius felt his chest tighten as he looked between two of his closest friends, forcing a smile to stay plastered to his face as the familiar sense of despair began creeping up on him. What must it be like to be wanted and needed like that? To feel that much love just for being you? He lay a finger in one of Harry's impossibly tiny fists and asked,_

"_Where's Remus? Isn't the Godfather-to-be generally expected to show up around now?" There was an odd silence, and Sirius looked up to find a twin set of knowing smiles aimed his way. His brow knit and he looked at James inquiringly._

"_Oh no, you'll have to take this one up with the boss," he said, brushing a hand over his wife's forehead and sitting next to her on the bed. Lily sat up straighter and took Sirius's free hand between both of hers._

"_We're losing you, Sirius. We've been losing you for a while now." Sirius started to pull away uneasily and opened his mouth to disagree, but Lily only narrowed her eyes and held tighter._

"_Oh no you don't, Sirius Black! You're going to listen to me this time! We were going to have Remus be Harry's Godfather because he is obviously the responsible choice, and we thought that was what Harry needed. But Remus isn't the one who needs Harry." Her eyes softened and she reached out to place a hand on Sirius' cheek. "I know you think you're dark and broken, but your heart is so full of love, Siri. You just need someone to let you love them. We're your family, and we love you, and it scares us to feel you pulling away. So we're giving you the most treasured gift we could possibly give; we're sharing Harry with you. We're letting you know what's it's like to be someone's whole world, to be loved unconditionally." As she talked, James stood and walked around to the other side of Harry's crib, lifting him gently from his bed and taking him over to where Black stood stunned._

"_Here, hold out your arms." Sirius did, acting on auto-pilot, and paled fearfully as the precious bundle was placed in his hands. Harry stirred in his arms and blinked one eye open sleepily, beginning to scrunch up his face and fuss unhappily. Sirius held him closer, automatically bouncing him gently and pressing his face close, cooing sweet nonsense words. Harry settled instantly, reaching out and brushing a little hand over a stubbly chin before falling happily back to sleep. "Meet your Godfather, Harry," his dad whispered, watching bright-eyed as he gave his best friend, and his son, the greatest gifts he had to offer._

Sirius sniffed and brushed a hand roughly over his face, drying it. James and Lily had made a mistake; all he had done since their deaths was let his godson down over and over again. Day after day he sat in this house, as much a prisoner as he had been during his years in Azkaban. But he'd be damned if he let the Order do the same thing to Harry.

"_Molly, he doesn't want this!" Sirius had been sitting in the kitchen under the invisibility cloak since the search parties had gone out, quietly listening to the progress (or lack there-of) of the tracking team attempting to trace Harry's magic. Restless by the time searches began returning to headquarters, Black had sidled over to where Molly and Arthur leaned together in a corner of the room._

"_He's just a child, Arthur, he doesn't know what he wants!"_

"_Exactly! He's just a child. They are both just children. How are you so eager to make this decision for them?"_

"_I'm doing this to protect Harry! He's as good as a son already, this will just make it official. Ginny adores him, don't pretend she won't be thrilled at the idea of bonding with him. And it will stabilize his wild magic. Don't you want him safe? Dumbledore is having you perform the bonding ritual, it will make us Harry's guardians. We can keep him here, where we can look after him, he'll have the best training and tutoring possible through the Order. I don't see what the problem is here!"_

_Sirius had immediately stamped down any feelings of excitement at the prospect of having Harry here with him. If it meant taking away his freedom, there was nothing in the world that would make it worth it. Fueled with rage, he hastily retreated from the kitchen before doing anything rash._

He paced Buckbeak's room now, Crookshanks watching him lazily from where she lay sprawled on a chair. They would figure out where Harry was soon, and when they did it would be too late for Sirius to stop the bonding. He couldn't deny Severus his life-debt. There was nothing more he could do for his godson.

Black stilled as the wards told him three more people had stepped in through the floo. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Sirius realized there was one thing he could do after all.

XxXxXxXxX

Sirius ran into Charlie and the twins in a second-floor hallway.

"How is he?" he asked the oldest boy quietly. A hasty 'not here' was the only reply, and he followed when Charlie beckoned further into the house. They wove through dustier and dustier hallways until they finally came to a stop partway down a dark landing that Sirius was willing to bet hadn't been visited since his parents were alive.

"Harry's worried, feeling guilty," Charlie began, "but his magic settled, so he's alright for now." Sirius studied the younger man's face carefully before he answered.

"You knew where he was, yet you let Dumbledore send the entire Order, including you, on a wild goose chase. Why?"

"Harry's not ready to be found yet," Charlie said simply, shrugging as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. Their eyes locked suddenly and he added gravely, "It seems we are in more than one Order together." Sirius' face lit up in understanding, and after a moment of internal debate, he turned to the twins.

"Fred, George, I need to talk to your brother alone." They looked ready to object, turning from one man to the other curiously, but something in Black's face kept them from arguing. Sirius waited until the sound of their footsteps had faded away, then turned to find the remaining red-head watching him, head cocked to one side and a single eyebrow raised with curiosity.

"I'm assuming Harry told you about the bonding. What do you think about all this?"

"It doesn't make sense. I guess I can understand the bonding itself, even if I hate the idea. But why Ginny? What can she possibly do for him?" It had been nagging at the back of his mind for hours.

"I think it has very little to do with Ginny and quite a lot to do with your parents." He told Charlie about the conversation he had overheard in the kitchen, and felt a few knots in his stomach ease away as Charlie paced furiously around the room, muttering angrily in what Sirius assumed was Romanian.

"You have to stop this," he said urgently, switching back to English and turning to face the other wizard.

"I don't have many options," Sirius explained. "I made a reckless decision while I was in Hogwarts, and I owe Severus Snape a life debt because of it. Dumbledore will have him call it in to get my consent on the bonding. I would give my life for Harry if I thought it would help him, but refusing the debt and dieing now would only mean that Dumbledore would take over as guardian, and Harry would be right back where he started."

"So that's it then," Charlie said in defeat. "We can't stop the bonding."

"No, we can't," Sirius agreed carefully, and he watched the red-head for even the tiniest hint that he was making a mistake as he finally put into words the idea that had been plaguing him since Charlie's return to headquarters. "But we could give him someone else to bond to."

"Who else…?" Charlie trailed off as he put the pieces together, swallowing hard and raising his eyes to meet Black's.

"Bullocks," he said weakly.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," came a gruff voice from the shadows, and both Sirius and Charlie spun around in alarm.

XxXxXxXxX

When you spend a year locked in the bottom of a magical trunk, you find yourself doing an awful lot of thinking. Far too much thinking, in fact, if you asked Alastor Moody. He had devoted his life to tracking down dark witches and wizards. He saw the world in good and evil; if you weren't aligned with the "good guys," then you were obviously evil. But he was beginning to see that the world was never that black and white.

Hadn't he hunted Severus with the rest of the death-eaters at one point in time? Hadn't Peter Pettigrew been a member of the Order? And today, when Dumbledore, the greatest wizard for the light Alastor had ever known, had shared his plan to have Harry bonded, hadn't Moody known in his gut that it was wrong, despite the headmaster's good intentions?

Moody's magical eye froze where it had just focused onto Charlie Weasley stepping back in through the floo and tore Mad-Eye away from his troubling thoughts. How was it that he could see traces of Harry's wild magic all over Charlie when he had been in Romania the entire time that Harry was in headquarters? He trailed Charlie through the walls with his magical eye as he reported in to Dumbledore (no sign of Potter) and then grew more suspicious as the red-heads met up with Black and snuck off to an un-used area of the house. Making his excuses, Alastor slipped out of the kitchen and made his way stealthily towards his targets.

He ducked quickly into an alcove, casting a disallusionment charm over himself when Fred and George passed him minutes later. He waited until they were well out of ear-shot before creeping through the shadows as silently as possible. Once he was close enough to Charlie and Sirius, he began to pick up on their conversation.

"…that's it then, we can't stop the bonding."

"No, we can't. But we could give him someone else to bond to."

"Who else…? …Bullocks." Realizing what Sirius was suggesting, Moody shook his head in disbelief and stepped out into the dim light of the landing.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," he agreed gruffly. "Black, I think you've finally gone mad. He harbors the little fugitive abroad one time and suddenly you're ready to welcome him into the family." Both men had spun towards him in surprise when he began speaking, and when Moody admitted to knowing Harry's whereabouts, their mouths fell open in shock. "Is he safe?"

Not seeing any other option, Charlie nodded at the ex-auror and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking for all he was worth like a child who had gotten caught stealing from a cookie jar.

"Don't try to stop us, Mad-Eye," Sirius whispered, and it was clear that his next words pained him to say. "I'll fight you if I have to."

"You won't win," Moody answered, not as a challenge but merely a statement of fact, twirling his wand casually between his fingers as he did.

"The two of us together might," Charlie said, pulling out his own wand and stepping shoulder to shoulder with Black. Alastor raised his eyebrows at him.

"You really want to do that, Weasley?" He asked, voice still perfectly calm, as though he was asking about the weather.

"No," Charlie answered, looking slightly green, "But I think I can help Harry, and I'm not going to let you stop me without a fight." There was a tense silence, Moody watching him through narrowed eyes, and then the old wizard gave a crooked smile and slid his wand back into his robes.

"Good boy. Black, you may not be so mental after all." Charlie and Sirius looked at each other before lowering their wands wearily and waiting for Mad-Eye to continue. It wasn't every day you could threaten an ex-auror and get off without a fight. "Now let's be sure we are all on the same page here. Potter is going to be forced to bond, there's no way around that. But that boy deserves his freedom. You bond with him," he pointed his walking stick threateningly at Charlie now, "only to stabilize his magic. He owes you nothing. We agree to that, and I'll back you up on this."

"I made a promise to protect him Mad-Eye, that's all I want. If he bonds with my sister, they are both trapped in a marriage without either having the chance to truly fall in love. But I can offer him something else, as well. I'll be his guardian until he turns seventeen. As far as the Order is concerned, it becomes my decision what he's told." Charlie's eyes narrowed and sparked with anger. "I can't help that Harry seems destined to face You-Know-Who again, but I can sure as hell change how he's left in the dark. Things are going to change in the Order: you can't place a man's responsibility on his shoulders then treat him as a child." Charlie didn't notice how his eyes shone and his voice rose with passion as he talked about Harry. From the way Black was regarding the young man carefully, however, Moody had the feeling that he wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"I can keep the Order running in circles for a day or two, but that is as long as you have to talk the boy into this." Moody growled.

"No." The older men both looked surprised by the red-head's forceful answer. "I will explain the situation, I will make the offer, and I will answer any questions I can, but I _will not_ try to manipulate him into anything. I know we all feel this is right for him, but isn't the whole point to stop people from making decisions about his life for him? This isn't so simple, remember; we would be bonded to each other for the rest of our lives. Our world doesn't take kindly to same-sex bonds. I would never stop him from finding a wonderful witch to spend his life with, but the fact would remain that our magics were intertwined. I refuse to push him into that situation, with all the prejudice and discrimination it entails, if it is not what he chooses."

Moody, not one for advertising his emotions, kept the approval from showing on his face. He was pleased, though, and despite his best efforts his voice had lost much of its growl.

"Best be off then, you have yer work cut out for you." Charlie nodded, then spun on his heal and strode down the hall and out of sight.

Mad-Eye sighed, knowing a headache was coming. After a quick silencing charm around them, he transfigured a chipped off piece of railing into a chair and sat heavily.

"Black, don't you dare hex me…" he started wearily, watching the ex-con's face cloud with fury as he explained what he had done.


	14. Chapter 14

~ Chapter Fourteen ~

After a series of floos and a short hike, Charlie spelled himself carefully in through the wards of the reserve. Harry was sitting outside his cabin, fingers running absently over the scales on Norbert's neck and, from what Charlie could tell, deep in conversation with the little dragon. As he made his way closer to the pair, Harry turned to him and then quickly rose to his feet, brushing loose dirt and grass from the back of his trousers.

"Harry," Charlie nodded in greeting. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he angled his head slightly to the side and nodded a second time. "Norbert." The dragon blinked at him before inclining his head in return, and Charlie's mouth dropped open in shock. Suddenly, Charlie remembered Ron telling him that Harry could speak to snakes, and he spun on the teen, eyes wide as saucers. "Harry, you're a parselmouth. Can you talk to dragons?!"

"No," Harry said slowly, but turned to look at Norbert thoughtfully. "Well, not that I know of." This time when Harry opened his mouth, only a smooth, low hiss came out. Norbert watched him intently, but otherwise didn't react. Harry shrugged and turned back to Charlie. "It doesn't look like it. But…" he fidgeted nervously before continuing, "I mean, I can sorta sense things, sometimes. Like a feeling, or an idea, I guess… is that not normal?" His shoulders drooped as he asked, and Charlie couldn't bear to make Harry feel any more different than he already did.

"I imagine it has more to do with Norbert than you. Even before I came to get him from Hogwarts, he has always acted strange compared to other dragons. I wouldn't worry too much about it right now Harry."

"Right," the younger boy responded, sitting on the ground once more. "Why worry about that when I have a wedding to plan." He scowled, and luckily missed the corners of Charlie's mouth twitching as he held back a smile. At times, Harry seemed wise beyond his years; then he would sulk as he was now and it was easy to remember that the boy was in the same year as Ron. Charlie quickly cast that thought aside, though, as he wasn't entirely comfortable associating Harry with his baby brother under the circumstances. Instead, he sat down a few feet from Harry, leaning back against the wall of his hut and trying to figure out how to ask the pouting fourteen-year-old to bond with him.

"What is it?" The question was quiet but insistent, and when Charlie glanced up his gaze was trapped in the deep pools of green watching him. He considered playing dumb, but only for a moment. Putting off the conversation wasn't going to change anything, and frankly that was a luxury they did not have the time for.

"Harry, do you know the difference between a wizard bond and a marriage?"

"I guess. Bonding is about connecting the magic, or blood lines I guess. Marriage is like… well, what you think of when you think of marrying someone; loving them and being a family together." There was just the slightest blush of colors on Harry's cheeks now, as though he'd rather be talking about anything else or to anyone else right now, thank you very much.

"That's… pretty much the idea, yeah. Bonds are political agreements. Marriages are about sharing your life with another person." He paused to make sure Harry was following the conversation, and the younger boy watched him intently, trying to figure out what the point to all of this was. "If you bond with Ginny, marriage comes with it. My parents will be both of your guardians, and mum won't give either of you a choice in the matter." Harry was suddenly much paler than he had been a moment before, but when he spoke his voice was steady, albeit soft.

"I know. But I have to bond, Charlie. I'm not letting anyone else get hurt because I can't control my magic."

"Probably. I'm going to be honest with you, I don't see any way around the bonding, and I'm sorry for that. But Harry… you don't need to do the marriage bit if you don't want to."

"But you just said…"

"…that if you bond with Ginny, the two go hand in hand. There's no reason it has to be Ginny. You can bond with someone who isn't looking for anything from you other than to see your magic stabilized. Someone who will use being your guardian to help prepare you for the war instead of to hide you away from it."

"I appreciate the thought Charlie, but who exactly do you think is going to be volunteering for _that_ job? 'Hey, no big, but I need someone to make a life-long bond with me that they will never be able to share with anyone else, and oh by the way there's nothing in it for you except getting dragged into the heart of this bloody war. Any volunteers?'" His voice was sarcastic, certainly, but not mean. He shrugged at Charlie when he finished, in a casually self-depreciating way that the red-head was growing to hate.

"I… well, me." A silence hung in the air after the straight-forward proclamation, and Charlie had to resist the urge to fidget.

"You… are a man." Harry blushed again at the rather obvious statement, and Charlie was at this point torn between laughter and tears at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. He wisely chose neither, and forced his voice to maintain its calm, neutral tones as he explained.

"The magic of the bond itself reacts no differently to either gender, it wouldn't be the first time a same-sex bond was cast. I'm not going to lie though; it's looked down on in wizarding society. Every decade the proportion of wizards to muggles in the world lowers, and magical folk, especially the Old Families, get more and more frightened that we are letting our race die out. If people find out, and you know they will eventually, there will be backlash."

"Then why are you offering to do this?"

"Because I think it's the best option we have right now." Charlie could tell Harry was ready to get himself wound up on the other's behalf, but he cut the boy off quickly with his own calm response. Leave it to Harry to completely overlook the negative consequences to himself and worry about how Charlie would handle it. "Besides, Harry; I'm a dragon keeper. I live in a hut in an uncharted dragon reserve in the middle of Romania. Everyone I talk to is related to me, in the Order, related to me _and_ in the Order, or also a dragon keeper living in a hut in an uncharted dragon reserve in the middle of Romania. I can't say I'm terribly concerned about any backlash."

Harry had to admit his initial distress was eased a little bit by Charlie's explanation. Not to mention the not-altogether-unpleasant tingling in his stomach when Charlie had used 'we.'

"How…" Harry flushed at the high squeak in his voice and cleared his throat before trying again, this time in far more controlled tones. "How would this work, exactly?"

"Sirius would cast the bond. This was actually his idea first. Once we were bonded, all the life-debts and Dumbledores in the world couldn't change it." He looked at Harry carefully. "I care about you Harry, and I want you safe, but no one can shield you from this war in the end. I would rather your guardian wanted you prepared than sheltered."

"If you bond with me, Voldemort will be after you," Harry argued, hoping the threat and shock-value of the name combined would knock some sense into Charlie and show him what a foolish offer this was.

"I'm a blood-traitor member of the Order, Voldemort is already after me," he countered smoothly, seeing what the boy was trying to do, and refusing to rise to the bate. He would keep his promise and not push Harry into this, but he wasn't about to let him offer himself up as a sacrificial lamb either.

"Charlie I'm being serious. Voldemort has tried to kill me four times already, three of my professors have tried to kill me or erase my memory, I've been attacked by a giant three-headed dog, an Acromantula, and a Basilisk, not to mention everything from the tournament last year, I even had a house-elf nearly kill me my second year!" Charlie never hesitated before answering.

"I live with dragons, I cook almost as well as Hagrid, I am affectionately referred to by my colleagues as a right bull-headed bat-dropping, and once when I was five I had to go to St. Mungos because I got a jelly bean stuck up my nose when Bill dared me to see if I could swallow it that way." Harry blinked back at him after this very strange announcement, utterly baffled.

"What?" He finally managed to ask, sure he had missed something. Charlie just shrugged.

"Sorry, I thought we were sharing unfortunate facts of life that had nothing whatsoever to do with us bonding." Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Charlie grinned at him as he clutched his sides, trying desperately to calm down, but the entire conversation was just too surreal. Charlie, he noted, looked annoyingly pleased with himself. Once he had caught his breath, Harry sat back and stared into the other man's eyes, looking for any hint that he was having second thoughts. He had to admit to himself he saw none, and sighed, unaware that his brow was knit with worry and he was anxiously picking at a loose seam where his jeans had ripped.

"I don't know how to thank you for being willing to do this." Charlie waited for the 'but…' and when nothing else followed, he realized with shock that Harry wasn't backing down from the offer.

"There's no need Harry, I'm happy to help." _Oh, I bet you are,_ pestered a small part of Charlie in the back of his mind; the same part that had his fingers tingling to reach out and brush the bangs back from Harry's forehead, feeling the smooth skin there as he did. His stomach clenched guiltily, and he opened his mouth to try and convince Harry that this was a bad idea, but Harry's breath caught sharply and he looked up to see the boy rubbing at his scar, which was once again glowing brightly. Norbert shifted restlessly, watching the boy with concern, and Harry looked at Charlie solemnly.

"We figure out how to make this happen today, or I'm letting them bond me to Ginny. The Order needs to know about my vision. No one else is going to die because of me." Charlie opened his mouth, no doubt to deny Harry's fault in anyone's death, but a snowy owl chose that moment to swoop in through the wards trilling urgently at her young master and dropping two official-looking letters at his feet. Exhausted after the long and rapid trip, Hedwig fluttered onto Charlie's windowsill and hooted consolingly to herself.

With a growing sense of dread, Harry retrieved the first letter and began to open it with trembling hands.

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a muggle. The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resultedin your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. **

**As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9a.m. on the twelfth of August. Hoping you are well. **

**Yours Sincerely,**

**Majalda Hopkirk**  
**Improper Use of Magic Office**  
**Ministry of Magic**

_[Copied from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by J.K. Rowling]_

The letter was dated two days previous. Harry thought that Charlie might be trying to speak to him, but he couldn't make out the words over dull roar of fear filling his mind and crushing him beneath it. He handed of the first letter without consciously deciding to do so, turning his attention instead to the second letter, which looked alarmingly similar from the outside.

**Dear Mr. Potter, **

**Due to your absence at Number 4 Privet Drive upon arrival of ministry officials, along with your continued disappearance, I regret to inform you that the Ministry of Magic has deemed you guilty of evasion. Be forewarned that failure to surrender your wand by the end of business today will be taken as a sign of further resistance, and you will be considered a wanted individual and taken to Azkaban upon arrest. **

**In addition, please consider this a polite reminder that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9a.m. on the twelfth of August. Hoping you are well. **

**Yours Sincerely,**

**Majalda Hopkirk  
Improper Use of Magic Office  
Ministry of Magic**

The second letter was dated from earlier that day, and Harry numbly handed it over to Charlie as he had with the first. He watched with a bizarre sense of dispassion as the other man read and re-read both letters before looking at Harry in shock. In a voice of deathly calm, Harry broke the silence.

"On second thought, perhaps we should get this taken care of right away."

XxXxXxXxX

"_Black, don't you dare hex me…"_

Sirius felt the rage boiling in the back of his mind, but his focus lay on what the old Auror was saying, holding his wand at the ready just in case Sirius exploded.

"The boy needed to stay at the Dursley's, and Dumbledore wanted to give him time to heal from what he went through in that blasted graveyard with the Diggory boy. We couldn't risk you running off to him, and Albus had a point when he said that losing you if you got caught would have been one straw too many for Potter. I won't apologize, I did what I felt was right, but I am telling now: I gave Dumbledore the idea of the magical trace. The Auror office has a lot of tricks up its sleeves, but even we aren't that good—"

"Stop." Black would never know how he managed to get the word out. He was hurt, yes, and furious, most definitely, but he had spent his months trapped inside reflecting on all the reckless ways he had helped worsen his godson's life, and because of it he knew that the headmaster had had cause to worry. Still, it was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to blast Moody through the wall, and he wasn't about to push his luck.

"Look, Black—" Black responded with a growl that would have made him proud in animagus form, and a glare to rival even Snape's.

"NO! Just. Don't." His words were clipped and filled with venom, and he nearly knocked the older man over as he shoved past him to march down the hall. Mad-Eye sighed and watched him through the walls with his magical eye, limping after him at a much slower pace. He meant it when he said he wouldn't apologize for his actions in this case, but he also acknowledged that Black had every right to be furious right now.

He saw Dumbledore meet Sirius in the foyer, and was impressed that Sirius kept from shouting and rousing his mother's portrait. He had just reached them when Black pushed past the headmaster and out through the front door. It was pouring outside, and he stood with Albus as they looked out at the dark-haired man sobbing in the rain. The force of his emotions at feeling his freedom had brought Sirius to his knees, and he let the water pour over him and soak into his robes as his hands pressed flat against the ground almost reverently. No one heard as the kitchen door opened and soft footsteps approached.

"Albus…" The word was spoken softly, but the look in Lupin's eyes as he regarded his leader was filled with realization and disappointment. "This was cruel." The werewolf swept past them, conjuring an umbrella and walking out to kneel by his friend, hand on the other man's shoulder and head bowed to speak quietly in his ear, too softly to be overheard. Others had come out from the kitchen as well to see what was going on by the time Remus coaxed Sirius in out of the rain, and no one spoke as he came slowly back into the house, staring blankly at the ground in front of him. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet the headmaster's, who was watching him tiredly, the usual twinkle missing from his eyes.

"I understand that the past stays with us," Black spoke slowly, gaze never faltering as he spoke to Dumbledore. "I have paid for my recklessness now." A sharp glint came into his eyes then and his last words carried an undercurrent of warning that the first had not. "Do not hold it against me again." He shook Lupin's hand from his shoulder and began disappearing up the main staircase.

"My boy," Albus called softly, voice filled with regret. "I was wrong. And I am sorry." Black paused to listen, back still turned, then a moment later continued on his way without a response. With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore had the front door closing with a soft _snick_, and those gathered took it as a cue to return to what they had been doing. Finally, only Moody remained in the hall with the headmaster. He was waiting for Albus to make the first move, knowing that he had gone behind the other's back in telling Black the truth. There was a gentle hand patting his shoulder and he turned to see softly twinkling eyes and a small smile directed his way.

"You were right to tell him the truth, Alastor. Thank you." Mad-Eye watched him walk back to the kitchen, the headache he had been fighting off all day finally settling in. The old man had his faults, but his entire life was devoted to protecting those around him. There was just no way to do that and still make everybody happy. Whatever disagreements the two might have, Moody knew that he would follow his old friend to the gates of Hell and back.

XxXxXxXxX

Sirius had fully intended to retreat to the solitude of Buckbeak's room and indulge in some long, self-pitying moping. It came as a bit of a shock, then, to find Fred and George waiting for him when he opened the door.

"You know, when I sent you on your way so I could speak with your brother this isn't exactly what—"

"Harry sent us." Well. That cut the building rant rather short.

"What?" Fred, who had made the startling declaration in the first place, merely pointed to where George sat cross-legged on the floor, brow creased in concentration while writing furiously in a small journal. Holding his temper for the moment, Sirius joined the two boys and leaned over George's shoulder to see how this book could have anything to do with his godson.

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.  
Fred, George? I need your help.

_Harry! Are you alright? Merlin am I glad Fred remembered to find your journal when he went back for your trunk. Sounds like it wasn't easy, neither. You—_

George, focus. I need you to get Sirius.

_We'll look mate, but last we saw he was talking to Charlie._

Charlie says to tell you he is finished speaking with Sirius.

_Oh. Hey Charlie! (Fred says hi too, he's mad that I won't let him take a turn writing.)_

George!

_Right, okay, got it, fetch Sirius. Ha! Get it, fetch? He's turns into a dog, so it's—he just came in. What did you need to tell him?_

Black, it's Charlie. Something has come up, it needs to happen now. Harry says you've been to Little Whinging, back before his third year. There's a graveyard there, and a forested area behind it. Can you get there?

Sirius stared in wonder at the Maurauders' code written across the top of the page, and his godson's messy scrawl answering George down the page until it reached the point where Charlie Weasley's hasty words were appearing on the parchment as though he were right there writing them.

Black?

Quickly, Sirius snatched the journal and quill and replied.

_Why there?_

I'll explain later, can you get there or not?

_On my way._

He thrust the book back in the arms of one of the twins and rushed to gather what few things he might need, forcing his eyes to stay off the journal so he wouldn't be tempted to demand an update on Harry immediately. Charlie was with him, Charlie said Sirius needed to leave _now_. He would just have to trust the red-head to know what he was talking about. Meanwhile, the twins were quickly catching up on the part of the conversation they had missed while Black was holding the journal.

"What needs to happen now?"

"You're leaving? We thought…"

"…you couldn't leave the house?"

"Is Harry in danger?"

"If Harry is in danger, we're coming with you."

"You can't stop us from coming…

"…we made a vow."

"Besides…"

"…we know the area," the finished together. Sirius turned to them thoughtfully.

"I was told I couldn't; I can. Harry is not in danger—well, not any more danger than usual anyway. And you two have no idea just how easy it would be to stop you from coming." The steely undertone to his voice left no doubt to his words, but he hadn't finished. "However, you're of age, and the three of us are going to be a little wrapped up for a few moments" he smirked as though he had made a joke, but whatever it was was lost on the twins "so some back up wouldn't hurt. On one condition."

"Name it." The twins agreed readily, clearly shocked that Sirius wasn't fighting with them about leaving headquarters.

"You cooperate fully in any and every way required with what happens when we get there."

"Done." "You're on." Sirius nodded and picked up one final item; his godson's invisibility cloak.

"You coming?" He asked, holding up one side of the cloak as he disappeared beneath it. Quickly the twins scurried over, and the three began their painfully slow trek through the house, all crouched at half their height in order to stay hidden. No one spoke until they apparated into the familiar muggle playground and began walking towards the cemetery up the hill.

"So what exactly…"

"…is going to happen?" The twins asked, breaking the silence.

"Harry and Charlie are being bonded." The twins stared open-mouthed at the scruffy man walking on ahead of them, not even glancing back at where they had both stopped walking in shock.

"Well…"

"…that escalated quickly." They muttered, hurrying to catch up.


	15. Chapter 15

~ Chapter Fifteen ~

Just beyond the first line of trees, Harry paced from one end of his clearing to the other, biting on his nails and every so often reaching up to flatten his bangs over his scar as he waited nervously for his godfather to show up. Charlie had resisted at first when Harry told him they needed to return to Little Whinging, but it hadn't taken Harry long to point out that at this point, there really weren't any other options.

"_On second thought, perhaps we should get this taken care of right away." Harry said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the pair while Charlie read the letters from the ministry._

"_You don't seriously want to go turn yourself in!" Charlie cried, and Harry hurried to clarify._

"_No, the bonding. We need to get Sirius to bond us now. Like _right now_. We'll go to Privet Drive, and—"_

"_Whoah, Harry. Slow down. We can't just go traipsing back into that neighborhood. The Ministry is looking for you, they can arrest you now that you weren't at your aunt and uncle's house, not to mention—"_

"_Exactly! Don't you see? The last place they'd expect me to go would be the one place they know I'm not at. Why would I risk Azkaban to keep my wand only to hide out where the first breath of magic would be detected in an instant?" He looked at Charlie expectantly, and was pleased to see that the red-head was starting to consider the idea._

"_Okay, but why? Why not do the bonding here?"_

"_Sirius doesn't know how to get here, he's been to Little Whinging though, about gave me a heart attack showing up as Snuffles the night I ran away on the Night Bus after second year. Besides," Charlie could see the hard glint that sparked into the boy's eyes, and started to see why his brothers followed the young man so willingly into dangerous situations. "I need my wand."_

_Charlie's forehead creased as he processed this last statement, confusion bubbling to the surface of his mind._

"_Why is it there? I thought Moody and the others got you from the cemetery after you cast your Patronus." His eyes narrowed as Harry shifted uncomfortably before answering in an almost defensive voice._

"_They did."_

"_Then how did your wand end up at the Dursley's?" Harry locked eyes with him before answering, and Charlie thought he detected a hint of weary fright beneath the defiant glare that held his gaze._

"_I didn't have my wand when I cast the Patronus. I haven't had my wand all summer." Harry was prepared for Charlie to recoil in fear or lash out in anger believing that this was simply one more false tale spun by the Boy-Who-Lived. As Charlie blinked in shock, however, Harry suddenly remembered something from the previous summer, and he leapt to his feet so fast that the older boy would have toppled over in alarm had he not already been seated._

"_Charlie, that's it! I didn't have my wand when I cast the Patronus!"_

"_Yeah, I got that the first time you said it. Is that even possible?"_

"_I don't know. I mean yes, I did it, so I suppose it must be possible. Hush though, that's not the point; do you remember the Quidditch World Cup last year?"_

_Charlie felt his lips twitch in amusement._

"_You know, I do believe I recall something of the sort—" Harry quickly put a hand over Charlie's mouth to stop the sarcastic reply._

"_The Dark Mark was cast using my wand. I didn't know that, because I didn't have it at the time, but they took my wand and did something to it, and you could see what spells had been cast from it. If they check my wand now, it won't show anything!" Charlie's eyes widened in understanding, and he pulled the hand covering his mouth out of the way._

"_They can't expel you for casting a Patronus when your wand is clean, they'd never get away with it."_

"_Well, yeah, if they snap my wand first that pretty much takes care of that. Or if they notice my wild magic, because Fudge may be an imbecile but someone on the Wizengamont is bound to connect the dots…"_

"…_so we won't give them the chance," Charlie finished for him, nodding thoughtfully as both men shared looks of determination and just a hint of mischief. "We bond, your magic settles, and then poor confused little Harry pops by the Ministry after spending a few days with his best friend's brother in Romania, eager to correct whatever misunderstanding seems to have occurred, and oh-so-apologetic for not having received the initial notice so as to clear matters up from the beginning." The red-head was positively smirking by now, and Harry felt a little guilty as his own expression sobered and he attempted to be the voice of reason (a voice he thought sounded uncannily like Hermione in his head)._

"_It won't be that easy Charlie, nothing for me ever is, especially at the Ministry. Fudge probably made me 'ministry most wanted' the moment he had the opportunity; I doubt we'll even make it through the front doors without trouble." Charlie's smirk, however, only grew._

"_Ah, but who said we were going to go in through the front doors?"_

That had been nearly an hour ago now, in which time Harry had shown Charlie the journal (the famous Weasley grin undermining his muttered whining about evil geniuses), they had contacted Sirius, and then made their way as quickly as possible back to the very graveyard that had landed them into this mess in the first place.

Harry stopped pacing as Charlie rose to his feet, eyes narrowed while he peered out past the trees.

"They're here," he informed Harry quietly.

"They?" Harry asked, trying to ignore the nervous churning in his stomach as some last defiant part of him finally admitted that this was really happening. Charlie nodded and walked out into the cemetery, to return moments later with twin red-heads and a large black dog. Sirius transformed almost immediately, and watched longingly as the twins rushed to hug Harry between them, talking quietly into his ears and ignoring the other two men entirely in favor of checking on their friend. Sirius turned to Charlie, taking in the stiff posture and somber expression.

"What changed?" There was no need for Black to elaborate and in answer Charlie drew the two letters out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed them over. He watched the other man closely as he read, seeing the dark eyes cloud over with fury.

"Over my dead body," Sirius said calmly, but there was an edge of danger to his voice that made Charlie very glad the ex-con was on their side.

"My sentiments exactly. Thankfully, that shouldn't be necessary." As Charlie explained the plan, Fred and George were busy making sure Harry was okay.

"Listen mate, not that we wouldn't love another brother…"

"…after all, no such thing as too many Weasleys…"

"…but you don't have to bond with Charlie…"

"…to prove you're part of the family."

Harry could tell that underneath their characteristic attempt to diffuse the tension of the situation, his friends were genuinely concerned with his willingness and desire to go through with the bonding, and their subtle promise to have his back no matter what he decided did more to settle his nerves than any coddling or cheery platitudes would ever have done.

" I have to bond. No, don't look at me like that. Even if I tried to refuse despite the danger that would put everyone in, Snape will call in his life-debt and Sirius will have to give my consent for me. But I am not about to force Ginny into this. She's just a kid, and she's like a sister to me, how could I hurt her and put her in danger like that?"

"That's very sweet of you mate…"

"…but you're just a kid yourself."

"Who says it's okay to force you into this either?" The twins' words overlapped perfectly, but Harry could easily detect two distinct sets of emotions. George's voice wavered as his love and concern poured into the question. Fred, the level-headed protector to George's passionate defender, carried an extra weight of wisdom in his words.

"It's not. Which is why I am making my own choice, away from Dumbledore's influence. I know Charlie will stand up for me as well as any other guardian would, but he will also let me learn how to fight for myself. Voldemort won't stop coming after me until one of us is dead; I would rather be taught how to put up a fair fight than waste away the days in hiding waiting until my luck runs out and he finds me again, still sheltered and unprepared to defend myself." Harry didn't notice the two older wizards approaching behind him as his friends listened to him gravely. "I know I've gotten by on luck in the past, but that isn't always going to be enough. I may not be strong enough or skilled enough to escape him in the end, but if I could learn how to take him down with me? It would make everything worth it." Fred and George looked stricken, a looked mirrored, unbeknownst to Harry, but the men behind him as well. However, before either twin could form a response, Charlie and Sirius had pulled themselves together and Charlie laid a hand on the young boys shoulder, as much to get his attention as to ease Charlie's own pain at the youth's selfless admission.

"It's time, Harry. If you're ready." Harry nodded and turned to him, Charlie looking to the twins while his hand was forced to drop off of the boy's shoulder. "Harry's wand is locked away somewhere at his aunt and uncle's house. You need to find and bring it back here while the bonding ceremony happens. Do NOT under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES use magic, unless it is worth a fleet of Ministry officials showing up to arrest Harry." His gaze sharpened, letting Fred and George know just how serious he was about this. "Harry was informed via owl post earlier today that he has been expelled and his wand is to be snapped." Fred's fury and George's outrage quickly melded into identical looks of determination. As one, they hugged first Harry than Charlie, wished them both good luck, then strode casually out into the graveyard as though simply out for an afternoon stroll.

Sirius watched them go, seeing the underling tension in their shoulders that revealed their trek to be the march into battle that it actually was. He turned to his godson then, wondering tiredly when the biggest worries of childhoods had moved from school-boy crushes and rivalries to war and sacrifices.

"I'm going to explain how the bonding will work, and then we'll get started."

XxXxXxXxX

As Fred and George walked side by side through the deserted cemetery, their hands slid together almost unconsciously, thumb-warring half-heartedly. Mostly, they were both seeking the comfort of the other's fingers as they brushed over their own. George sighed, and Fred hid a small smile, knowing his brother wouldn't have been comfortable with the silence for long.

"Three days ago we were the only one who knew about us, right? That's not just in my head?"

"Nope."

"And now mum knows. And Harry. And dad, and Bill and Charlie, and probably Sirius heard them yelling, and Ron, which means probably Ginny and Hermione—" He paused for a second before summing up the situation in simpler terms. "And now everybody knows."

"Yep."

"Which means we can't just keep it secret anymore."

"Nope."

"Everyone at school will know."

"Yep."

"Will you answer with more than one bloody word, it's driving me barmy," George finally sniped, but he squeezed his brother's hand gently to show that there was no real malice behind it.

"Yes dear," was Fred's reply, and he laughed as he ducked a light smack on the back of the head.

"Are you…"

"…having second thoughts?" George didn't answer, but then he didn't have to. Fred pulled his brother to a stop, framing his twin's face with his hands, and brushing his thumbs softly over cheek-bones. "Nope," he said, eyes dancing with mischief, and leaned forward to press their mouths together, both boys smiling into the kiss. Reluctantly, they moved apart moments later, and in silent agreement continued their walk with just a little more space between them, hands down at their sides. Harry needed them to find his wand, and they would devote every ounce of concentration they possessed to the task.

XxXxXxXxX

"Wait!" Sirius lowered his wand immediately and looked at his godson in concern. Harry had Charlie's arm in a death grip, preventing him from raising his wand hand to be bonded. The redhead felt a giant fist clenching his insides and he fought to keep the disappointment from his face. He had sworn to Black and himself not to pressure Harry into this in any way. "Charlie, you don't have to do this."

Charlie was so caught off guard that he could only blink stupidly at the boy fidgeting nervously in front of him. The silence stretched long enough that Harry started babbling, more to provide noise than anything else.

"I know you said you don't care what people think… and I know you would do anything to protect Ginny," Charlie wouldn't meet Sirius's eyes; they both knew that protecting Ginny had very little to do with it. "But we'll—I'll find another way, okay? You're going to end up hating me. You don't… really know me. When you do, you'll hate me and you'll be stuck with me. Even if it's not real, we'll always be bonded and you'll be stuck and I—I'm—"

Charlie watched as Harry visibly shrunk in on himself under the burden of whatever secret he thought made him unworthy of anyone's love or care. He had promised himself not to push if Harry was reluctant in any way, but as he watched him struggle Charlie realized that this particular reluctance was better to ease than ignore.

He straightened his shoulders and formally knelt before the boy, laying his wand on the ground in front of him and lowering his arms straight down to his sides in a traditional wizard proposal. "Harry James Potter, I see your value in the kindness of your heart, the depth of your courage, the strength of your will, and the commitment to your friends that you prove over and over with your love and sacrifices. Bonding with you is not a choice I am willing to make, but one I am honored to make. If you accept this proposal, my pledge to you is this: to be a friend when one is scarce, to see Harry when the rest of the world sees The Boy Who Lived, and to do all in my power to help us both discover our own worth and find happiness."

Harry hadn't broken eye contact even to blink the entire time Charlie was speaking. The world seemed to stand still in the hush that followed the declaration. Sirius could see that Charlie was nearly paralyzed by nerves, but what really held his attention was the emotion swirling in Harry's eyes as his brow creased in concentration. He considered explaining the ritual to Harry, knowing he would not have heard of it growing up in the muggle world. However, even without the details and history behind Charlie's actions, he had a feeling that his godson was getting a pretty accurate idea of what had just happened. As Harry stepped forward, Charlie held himself still and dreaded hearing what decision had been made.

Charlie was surprised, then, when Harry shyly took his hand rather than responding, but he held his tongue and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Both Charlie and Sirius were absolutely shocked, however, when Harry mimicked the kneeling ritual from moments before (sans wand, for obvious reasons), and Charlie was caught off guard by the flip and flutter in his stomach at the idea of being proposed to. _Yeah, by a fourteen-year-old, _his mind unhelpfully supplied, and he shook his head quickly to erase the thought.

"Charles William Weasley," he spoke with surprising calm in his voice, "you have the warm heart and fiery spirit of the dragons you love so much. You see past the surface of others and find the best in them when no one else, sometimes even themselves, can see it. You do what is right, not what is easy or expected. I promise to try every day to prove myself worthy of the gift you give me not only with this bond, but with your friendship. I… I don't have much to offer, but I swear to you that from this day on you will always have someone to lean on, even when you're being a cranky, bull-headed bat-dropping." They shared a small smile at this before Harry finished. "I know what it's like to feel completely alone. You don't ever have to feel like that."

Charlie didn't trust his voice, so he simply pulled harry to his feet in one quick move and kept the younger boy's hand held tightly in his own, their eyes locked onto each other's.

Charlie fought to keep the storm of emotions rushing through him under control: There was gratitude for the words and the promise of an end to his dark loneliness. There was guilt that he had asked this from a young man who already carried the weight of a world on his shoulders. There was anger that others had put him in the position to have to ask in the first place. Worst of all, though, was the small part of him which felt glad there were no better options, so he would always have Harry in his life.

Looking at the resigned young man in front of him, Charlie was furious that Harry had been taught that he owed even this sacred commitment to a wizarding world that constantly judged, ridiculed, and exploited him. More than ever, he felt a fierce determination to keep the oath of protection he had made with the twins that morning. It was his duty to guard the brave little dragon.

XxXxXxXxX

Sirius listened to the proposals with bittersweet appreciation. He knew that Harry was being matched with someone who would truly care and advocate for not only his survival, but his happiness as well. He knew also that performing this bond was the best he could do for Harry, but still he felt like he had failed him. Once again, he failed to protect he one thing that mattered most.

His biggest regret, though, came when watching Charlie help Harry to his feet, holding his hand and looking at him like he was a precious treasure. Black wished he could give them more time, time to learn each other and maybe even find more together than either imagined, but even knowing that the pressure of the bond could ruin all those chances, he also knew that if they were going to get away with this and protect Harry from a far worse match, they had to act before it was too late.

"Harry, Charlie. Are you ready?" Neither spoke, but they stepped back, reaching out to wind their arms together once more.

Harry was pale, gaze frozen on the point where their palms pressed together. Charlie gently lay his free hand on the young boy's shoulder in support. Harry's breath hitched nervously and his own arm shot out to mimic the move, his grip much tighter on the other man's shoulder.

Sirius watched his godson carefully before raising his wand to begin the bonding ceremony. Harry's eyes were wide, but his arms were steady and his shoulders were set in a determined stance that Sirius knew all too well from his years with James. When a Potter made up his mind, there was no talking him out of it, for better or for worse.

Every pureblood wizard was taught the words to recite the bonding ceremony in childhood. Sirius supposed that families weren't willing to risk giving another line the upper hand by ending up with a lord or heir who could not perform the ritual. For once, he was glad that the Old Families were so paranoid.

He worried at first that he wouldn't remember all the words, but as soon as he began to speak and his magic began weaving around the joined hands in front of him, the spell took over, pulling the poetic lines from within his very heart.

"With nature as my guide and Merlin as my witness, I grant for thee, Harry James Potter, consent in this bond. Charles William Weasley, do you so consent, of your own accord, to enter into this union of magic and blood?"

"I consent." If any of the three wizards had spared a an ounce of concentration to observe their surroundings, they would have felt the way the wind slowed to the softest of evening breezes as it reached the clearing where they stood, and the trees themselves seemed to lean forward to join in the moment.

"From two houses, a single bloodline. Join now your blood as it will be joined in any heir this bond should bless." A single, thin blade appeared pressed between their palms. Harry forced himself to push all thoughts of Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort, and Gravestones out of his mind as his free hand joined Charlies and the two together caught their breath as they slowly pulled the blade down across the bottom of their palms, leaving matching deep cuts that pressed together, the blood mingling before it dripped down their wrists and arms. Harry watched transfixed as the dark red fluid trickled slowly down the tanned skin of his arm. His eyes quickly cleared and snapped back to Sirius as he began speaking once again.

"Two apart merge into one, one name alone to mark your lineage." Harry opened his mouth to repeat the words that Sirius had taught him, accepting Charlie's name as his own. Before he had the chance, however, he heard them formed in Charlie's calming, steady voice.

"Two hearts, two minds, two lines become one; I bind myself to thee and leave behind the badge of my heritage, instead to cast allegiance beneath the Potter crest." The magic, at this point, was flowing out of Sirius' wand tip like the most delicate of vines, winding intricate patterns not only around their hands but down their arms and inching towards their shoulders. Charlie's demeanor never faltered, but Harry saw that he was not the only one staring open-mouthed as the red-head casually accepted the surname Potter. True, it had not been discussed, but while Charlie had gone about setting up for the intimate ritual, Black had patiently taught Harry the words that would join him to Charlie's name, neither paying attention as the red-head carefully mouthed the phrase silently to himself over and over again." Prompted by the magic now settling even more thickly around them, Sirius regained his composure and continued.

"Magics now join, a shared well from which this new life will spring forth, until life itself has ceased to be." The words had hardly left his mouth when the air around them sparked like a thousand lightning bolts were crackling into existence just for them. Harry felt an overwhelming rush of power surging upwards from where his bare toes dug into the ground, both he and Charlie having been instructed to stand barefoot for the ceremony. He vaguely noticed Charlie's hand adjust to grip his own tightly, keeping their open wounds pressed firmly together as the magic around them swirled mightily. Every nerve ending in his young body seemed to stand on end and just when he thought he could not possibly withstand any more, it died away. There was a deadly silence for a long moment, then Sirius spoke a final time, voice rough with awe and emotion.

"Wizard and Wizard bond as one, so mote it be." A blinding flash and one last powerful surge, and Harry found himself on his back, gasping for air after the wind was knocked clear out of his chest. He sat up slowly, muscles protesting, and looked down at the faintest of scars on his now healed palm, that marked his bond to Charlie. He picked idly at a flake of dried blood that clung only partially to his wrist, then looked around to locate Charlie. When their eyes locked, he suddenly remembered the surprise that the other man had given to the ceremony.

"Charles Weasley, what did you do?" He asked with quiet wonder. The other man just grinned as he stood, brushing dirt and leaves away before offering a hand to help Harry to his feet.

"That's Charlie Potter to you," he replied merrily. His eyes softened, and when he spoke again, it was in a voice that offered no regrets or resentment. "My parents will have more than enough Weasley's honoring their line. The legacy your mum and dad left to you is yours alone, and no one has the right to take that from you."

For the first time in his life, Harry was grateful for the flash of searing pain in his scar as it stopped him from throwing his arms around the other man and surely making a fool of himself.


	16. Chapter 16

~ Chapter Sixteen ~

Fred whistled as he sauntered up to the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive. He could see out of the corner of his eye where the living room blinds separated to reveal a beady set of eyes following his trek across the perfectly manicured lawn. He smirked, knowing that George was slinking around the side of the house at that very moment, completely unnoticed by the muggle woman inside; exactly how they planned it. He had just raised a hand to knock when the door swung open to reveal a large, sneering man. Fred smiled widely and bounced a few times on the balls of his feet.

"No solicitors," Vernon Dursley drawled and went to slam the door shut once more. Fred however calmly pulled his wand from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers and wiggling his eyebrows at the man.

"But of course! Goodness knows you're a busy, important man after all! Which is why I will only take up a few moments of your time." Taking advantage of the man's automatic step back at the sight of the wand, Fred skipped lightly over the threshold and strode into the living room. Behind him, Vernon spluttered indignantly, and his large purple face reddened even more than usual.

"I WON'T HAVE ANY MORE OF YOU FREAKS IN MY HOME!" He roared, attempting a menacing waddle toward the grinning red-head. Petunia, who had disappeared into the kitchen while her husband went to deal with the nuisance at the door, now came hustling back in, lips pursed in her pale, narrow face.

"Vernon, the door! The neighbors will overhear!" She tittered in a panic. In the racket caused by both Dursley's rushing to snap the front door shut, only Fred heard the telltale _snick_ of another door in the back of the house being drawn closed quietly. His smile somehow managed to widen, and he chuckled to himself at how easy it was to distract Harry's relatives.

"You!" Vernon was pointing at him threateningly from a safe distance away, and Fred merely lifted his eyebrows in question, waiting patiently for the shouting he was sure he had coming to him. He was almost disappointed when the man settled for more of a furious hissing instead, no doubt his wife's reminder of the neighbors still weighing on him.

"Now you listen here, freak: I don't know who you think you are, but you have no right invading our home and privacy in this way! I ought to call the cops on you this very instant!" Mr. Dursley was not the most perceptive man, and so missed the way Fred's eyes lit up at the inadvertent admission that Vernon did not recognize him from the previous summer. This made things so much easier.

"Hmmm, yes, that may be problematic…" he reasoned aloud, slowly making his way towards the kitchen doorway as he tapped his wand lightly on his chin as though lost in thought. "Except, it might end up more problematic for you than myself, seeing as I can disappear—" he waved his wand wildly and spun around the corner of the doorway out of site, just in time to see George slipping into the room from the hallway entrance just behind the Dursleys. Immediately, his brother picked up where he had left off.

"—and reappear at a moment's notice." Petunia shrieked and Fred stifled his laughter carefully as he began methodically searching the kitchen for Harry's wand. He could hear George talking sweetly in the other room. "Deepest apologies, my dear lady. I never meant to startle you. I simply felt it prudent to demonstrate the futility of calling on muggle authorities to come to your aid."

"Wha-what do you want?" Vernon asked, failing miserably at his attempt to snarl viciously while he spoke.

"Oh, where are my manners; allow me to explain myself. My name is Percy Weasley…" This time Fred had to pause for a moment and physically hold back the laughter with a hand pressed tightly over his mouth. Old Perc would be in for quite a surprise if the Ministry ever did come calling and asking after Harry's wand. "…and I am here on behalf your nephew, Mr. Harry Potter."

"That little freak ran off, and good riddance to him! Whatever trouble he's gotten himself into is his own fault, and he can bloody well face the consequences! He's been nothing but a drain on my family since the day he was left here, eating our food, stealing our belon—"

"ABRA CADABRA!" This time Vernon shrieked along with his wife and Fred rolled his eyes as he peeked out into the room, his search finished. George caught his eye and winked before slipping around the wall that led to the staircase and sneaking up to the second floor while the Dursleys were still cowering in fear of his supposed curse, eyes squeezed shut and hands over their heads in fear.

"You see," Fred spoke up casually after taking several long strides into the room. Once again, Vernon and Petunia swung around to face him with matching looks of horror at his apparent disappearing act. "I don't take too kindly to people insulting my friend. You'll find I have a bit of a… temper." He glanced down at his wand knowingly as he said this last part, and watched with satisfaction as the little remaining color drained from the faces of the man and woman watching him.

"W-w-what did you do to us? What was that s-spell?" Vernon stuttered, seeming to have forgotten for the moment that he was supposed to be acting intimidating. Fred's answering grin was downright evil, a string of possibilities flying gleefully through his thoughts. For a moment, he let his mind drift to an image of Harry, curled up miserably on the floor of a pitch black cupboard and his eyes sparked with rage.

"Let's just say I would avoid direct contact from sunlight from now on," he answered calmly. "It might be just a wee bit difficult to explain to muggle doctors why you have suddenly begun to grow scales instead of skin." At this, both Dursleys shrunk back in horror from the thin lines of light filtering in through the blinds, and Petunia burst into tears. From behind them, a head of bright red hair appeared from around the corner, and George shook his head, frowning in a way that told Fred his twin as at a loss as to where Harry's wand could be. He met his brother's eyes just long enough to let him know that he understood the message, then returned his attention to the Dursleys. Remarkably, the sight of his wife's tears seemed to have granted Vernon a rare spurt of bravery, and he was straightening himself up and glowering back at Fred.

"You cannot do this, Potter told us you freaks aren't allowed to use magic here, now I demand you take back the curse and remove yourself from my home immediately!"

"I AM GROWING TIRED OF YOUR INSULTS, DURSLEY!" Fred roared menacingly, gratified at the high-pitched whimper Vernon made as he and his wife once again covered their faces in terror. He smiled at the evil grin on his twins face as his other half snuck into the room right on cue. With a slight sense of regret that he would miss the reaction, Fred backed silently into the kitchen and out of sight, as George crept up right behind the Dursley's hunched backs.

"Silly muggle," he heard George sneer quietly, followed immediately by the loudest shriek yet, and then a thump that sounded suspiciously like a body hitting the floor. Fred itched to peak from his place in the kitchen but forced himself to stay put.

"Petunia! What did you do to her?" Vernon sounded as though he had started to cry himself, and Fred could hear George's snort of laughter from where he stood.

"I didn't do a thing, she just fainted. Now, are you ready to cooperate?" George may be the more timid of the twins, but he knew how to make himself sound deadly dangerous when he set his mind to it. Vernon must have noticed this as well, because his next words were more of a plea than anything else.

"What do you want from us?"

"Harry left in such a hurry, he seems to have left his wand behind. I would be ever so appreciative if you were to retrieve it for me so that I might return it to him safely."

"And if I don't?" There was a pause after Vernon's last attempt of defiance, and Fred could just picture one corner of George's mouth lifting in an evil grin.

"Then I will have to… persuade you…" he answered silkily, giving an uncanny impression of Professor Snape. There was a quick scuttle of footsteps, and then the sound of the front door being flung open. Fred strained his ears from in the kitchen and could just make out the sound of a car door opening and closing, before footsteps once again returned to the living room and the front door was pulled shout again. He caught a glimpse of the beefy man as he passed in front of the kitchen door, and had to bite back laughter at the sight of the afghan wrapped snugly around his exposed arms and face, clearly an attempt to hide from the sun.

"Here, take the bloody thing. Just get out of my house!" Fred laughed silently as he slipped out the same door that his brother had entered from, and tiptoed along the side of the house, just as the front door slammed and George came whistling across the lawn. Fred raised an eyebrow in question when he saw him, and then grinned when George, smiling, held up Harry's wand in triumph. With an added spring to their steps, the two brothers headed back up the road towards the cemetery, eager to hear how the bonding had gone.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie dipped the wet cloth once more into the cool basin of water he had summoned and wrung it out carefully before holding it to Harry's forehead. It had taken Sirius a solid ten minutes after the bonding was complete before he had finally convinced Harry to sit down, and even longer before the boy allowed Charlie to tend to him. The pain that had flashed briefly through the young man's scar hadn't lasted long, but it was enough to leave him pale and shaken, round beads of sweat dripping down the edges of his face. Harry had not done more than close his eyes and bite his bottom lip between his teeth, hands clenching into fists at his sides when the pain was at his worst.

Had that been the end of it, Charlie had no doubt the stubborn young man would have shaken off the whole experience already. Unfortunately, almost as soon as the scar had returned to normal, shocks of magic had begun flowing through his body at random intervals, brushing every nerve ending in the process. It was common, according to Sirius, for a witch or wizard coming into their full power in such an immediate fashion to feel achy and drained for a while afterwards as their body adjusted to the increase in power that it possessed. This, however, was unlike anything either man had ever heard of. Both had felt, though not directly, the immense surge of power that had flowed into the small boy during the bonding. The force of the bond itself combined with Harry's incoming powers had knocked all three of them off their feet, after all.

Charlie exhaled sharply as another round of tremors started, and he wet his cloth once again to dab at the trembling boy's cheeks and neck. Sirius stood a few feet away, nearly twitching with nerves while his fingers dug unyieldingly into his own arms, as though physically stopping himself from taking Harry into his arms. Charlie could feel the tension between godfather and godson, and had he not been so concerned about Harry's well-being he may have tried to coax the boy into allowing Black to aid in his care. As it was, the red-head wasn't about to risk Harry refusing help altogether.

He was drawn from his thoughts by a quiet sigh and the touch of a small, warm hand gently pushing his arms away. He began to protest when he saw that Harry was rising shakily to his feet, but was cut off by a single glance of the unyielding determination burning in the raven-haired boy's eyes. Charlie could see the muscles in the young man's legs shaking under the strain of holding himself upright, but after only a moment of standing perfectly still, Harry walks slowly over to the overturned crate that serves as a makeshift table in his little sanctuary.

Charlie finds his curiosity piqued when the boy lifts the crate aside, revealing a small plastic bucket ('Shoep's Ice Cream!' labeled brightly on the side) with a lid and broken handle hanging loosely off one side. Harry steadies himself on a nearby tree as he gingerly bends over to retrieve the bucket. Standing once more, he peels back the lid and Charlie hears the soft tumble of solid objects being jostled around as Harry rummages through the contents. Eventually, he lifts something out, turning it carefully in the palm of his hand and inspecting it critically before sliding it into a pocket and returning the rest of the items to their original place.

After the wooden crate is safely returned to its resting place, Harry retrieves the item from his pocket and straightens his shoulders. When Charlie realizes that Harry is walking towards his godfather, he turns to watch the older man's reactions. Black's eyes widen, and though he holds himself still, Charlie can see the hope and longing flash across his face.

Harry holds out his hand a few feet from his godfather, but doesn't speak until the other man has stretched out his own hand to take the small wooden carving that Harry places into it.

"I wanted to thank you, for looking out for me and performing the bond. And for coming up with the idea… showing us your brother's library… hexing Kingsly when he tried to break through Fred and George's shield…" He trails off as a soft blush rises to his cheeks, as though only now realizing what a long list of good deeds the other man has built up in a matter of days.

Sirius, for his part, stares down at the smooth carving of a small boy, sitting with his knees drown up to his chest, one arm wrapped around his legs and the other around the neck of a large dog. The second arm holds the dog's face against the boy's own, the dog's body curved protectively behind the boy, providing shelter and support. The face is blank, and the dog is smooth rather than carved in detailed fur. It is almost all the more beautiful for its simplicity, however, and Black lifts his other hand to rub over the smooth surface. He turns it over and freezes at the small inscription carved into the belly of the dog: _Padfoot and Cub_. He gasps, and feels a lump rise in his throat.

"When…" He stops to clear his throat when it comes out in too high a pitch. "When did you make this?"

"When I came home for the summer. It's… how I felt, when you came to visit me in the hospital wing after the final task, after Cedric… well, after." He pauses for a single painful moment, and then pushes on. "I remembered how you had looked when you saw where Pettigrew cut my arm; it was like you were ready to put yourself between me and the whole world if it meant you could take back what had happened. And every time I'd wake up while I was recovering, I'd open my eyes to see you watching me, as though nothing could be more worth your time than seeing me laying there, just being alive. No one has ever looked at me like that before… I never thought anyone ever would." His small speech ends abruptly, and he shifts awkwardly as silent tears drip down Sirius's face and off the end of his chin.

Harry struggles with himself for a moment, and then takes a deep breath, as though stealing himself to do something he finds rather unpleasant.

"I wanted to send it to you when you wrote to me this summer…" He lets the statement fade off unfinished, the unspoken _'but you never wrote'_ hanging heavily between them.

"I wanted to Harry," Black answers, his voice raw and desperate. "_Every day_ I wanted to write to you, come for you, take you away from that house where I knew you were unhappy."

"Then why didn't you!" The harsh betrayal in Harry's voice as he lashes out seems to take even him by surprise, but Black doesn't protest. Instead, he gives Harry a chance to continue shouting, and when nothing happens, he speaks softly in reply.

"I should have; I know that now. I had reasons, and they weren't _bad_ reasons, Harry, truly; I really believed at the time that I was doing the right thing for you. But I know I let you down, again, and I don't expect you to forgive me."

"I thought you blamed me, for what happened in the cemetery. I thought that was why everyone stopped writing to me." Harry's voice was barely louder than a whisper at this point, and yet his words seemed to blast through the clearing like thunder. Charlie felt bile rise to the back of his throat while his insides constricted painfully at the thought of the emotional torment the young man had been inadvertently put through that summer by the very people meant to protect him. Black couldn't have looked more dismayed if he had been physically struck in the face.

"No! Harry, I would never think that. Nothing, _nothing_ that happened that night was your fault. You watched Krum attack Fleur and still went to her and made sure she was safely found and rescued. You faced down Voldemort and every one of his loyal Death Eaters, completely alone, and came out alive. You risked your life to bring Cedric's body back to his family. You did _nothing wrong_." Sirius spoke in a voice of steel, allowing no chance of disagreement with his words. "The only thing I felt for you that night was pride. It was the second proudest moment in my life." Hesitating only a moment, Black stepped forward and framed Harry's face in his hands, gently tipping his head back so their eyes met. He lifted one hand to brush the bangs back from Harry's forehead, and his face softened of its own accord. "The proudest was becoming your godfather." Harry does not cry, but a single harsh sob frees itself from his chest and a moment later godfather and godson are clinging to each other tightly, neither sure who initiated the embrace and neither caring much either way.

XxXxXxXxX

Fred and George are nearly bursting with enthusiasm to share the story of their escapade at Number 4 Privet Drive. When they finally reach the clearing, however, they can sense the near palpable tension and excitement turns quickly to concern.

"What's wrong?" "What happened?" They ask, looking from where Sirius stands holding Harry in his arms to where Charlie is watching the pair with a look that seems stuck between a gentle smile and a sorrowful grimace.

"Didn't it… work?" They ask together, voices laced with uncertainty. Harry feels his heart warm at his friends' concern, and the strain of the past few days begins to ease away as he looks around his little asylum and sees it filled with family for the first time ever. He smiles at them and nods.

"So you're a Weasley now!" Fred exclaims, both boys returning Harry's smile with grins of their own.

"Well…" Harry looks uncertainly at Charlie, as though unsure what, if anything, it is his place to say. Charlie, feeling absolutely no shame whatsoever in his new surname decides that whatever Harry's concerns are, now is as good a time as any to show him that they are unfounded, and that Charlie is perfectly happy to have joined his family rather than the other way around.

"Actually, I'm a Potter." The twins look taken-aback for only a moment, before they both smile brightly at their brother.

"Charlie Potter…"

"…has a rather nice ring to it." They conclude, nodding as though they had been approached for their professional opinion on the matter, and their approval settled the matter.

"Did you get his wand?" Although Sirius hated to disrupt what he was sure was a rare moment of simple acceptance in Harry's life, he knew that Harry and Charlie's plan for the Ministry would be much safer if conducted prior to the end of the day and the deadline set down by the Improper Use of Magic Office.

George just smiles and pulls the slim item from his back pocket, handing it over to Harry, who breathes deeply in relief at coming in contact with his wand after far too long an absence.

"Where were they keeping it?" Harry finally thinks to ask, looking at his friends curiously.

"In the car."

"It's no wonder you weren't able to find it this summer." Harry's eyebrows disappear behind his bangs at this pronouncement.

"In the car? My uncle's car? How in Merlin's name did you get it?"

"Funny you should ask…" Fred and George began as one, twin smirks promising a thoroughly entertaining tale.

"Later, guys." Charlie's look is apologetic buy firm as he cuts his brothers up before the story can begin. "Harry, I think we should go now, get this taken care of today. And the rest of you should get back to headquarters before they start sending search parties after you all as well." Harry nods his agreement, and the twins look from Harry to their brother and back, trying to figure out what they missed.

"Go where…"

"…to take care of what?" They ask.

"I'll explain on the way back, Harry and Charlie need to get going." Sirius butts in, then turns his attention to the other pair as he says their names. "You'll be 'round afterwards?" They both nod, though Charlie looks faintly green at the prospect, and Harry's face loses what little color he had managed to gain back since the bonding.

Sirius, seeing the stricken looks, can't hold back a wolfish grin.

"Aw, come on now, it won't be so bad; I mean all you have to do is tell Dumbledore you ran off and got bonded to someone else right under his nose…" The twins, catching on, mirror his smirk.

"Yeah, and then tell mum…"

"And then Ginny…" Beginning to feel his last meal rising back up for the second time that day, Charlie quickly pulls Harry against his side and apparates away. The last thing they see before being sucked away is Sirius and the twins leaning on each other as they roar with laughter.


	17. Chapter 17

~ Chapter Seventeen ~

Harry and Charlie appeared in an alleyway, at a point shielded from passerby by beat up, rusty dumpers, overflowing with bags of trash. It took Harry a moment to realize what felt off about his surroundings.

"You can't smell any garbage," he said suspiciously, looking around himself with a renewed sense of curiosity. Charlie merely nodded and led him by a hand on his shoulder away from the wall and towards the light at the end of the alley.

"That's a Common Apparation Point, or Ministry CAP. There's at least one in most muggle cities with a magical population nearby. The Ministry can't have us popping up out of nowhere when muggles are around, but we need to be able to travel freely amongst ourselves. There are charms all over to keep muggles from wandering down that way or from noticing anything strange about the people coming and going. Plus, you can do guided apparition from the Ministry to any of those points without ever having been there; any other time you would need to bring the location to your mind to properly apparate." There was a small _crack_ behind them announcing another witch or wizard making use of the location, and Charlie quickly steered Harry down a side street, the grip on his shoulder increasing slightly as others began passing them on the sidewalks.

"Are we in London then?" Harry asked quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion of any eavesdroppers nearby.

"No, Amsterdam," Charlie whispered back distractedly, focused instead on gazing at shop after shop with a narrowed, considering gaze, as though searching for something at the edge of his memory.

"Amster—what? I thought we were going to the Ministry?"

"Mmm," Charlie confirmed, still seeming preoccupied by his search. Then his eyes lit up and he navigated Harry across the street beside them, finally turning his head to answer the younger man. "That is the end-goal, yes, but as we have already determined, we can't exactly waltz in through the front doors. Amsterdam was the furthest I thought I could get us through apparition without splinching one or both of us, and I don't figure the Ministry will have it on the list of top places to search for you. Besides," he added with a leer towards Harry that had the boy's stomach feeling strange, "I happen to like Amsterdam." His eyebrows waggled suggestively, and Harry was so busy fighting down a blush that he almost missed the sign for _Van Eck's Laundromat_ over the dingy brick building they had just entered.

"Charlie, why—"

"Shhh, wait." Harry frowns at the gentle admonition, but nonetheless obeys. Charlie is walking casually past the rows of dingy, whirring washing machines, and Harry does his best to mimic the easy-going façade when he notices the darting glances the two men are drawing from other patrons. A woman sitting in the corner with a magazine is stealing curious glances over the top of the pages, and an old man with a beard to rival Hagrid's gazes openly at them, not bothering to disguise his staring.

Harry speeds up for a few steps, closing the distance between himself and the red-head, only to stumble moments later when he nearly trips over the other man as he unexpectedly turns down a grimy hallway with a lavatory on either side. Charlie glances around quickly before pulling out his wand and pressing the point into a chipped mark on the wall. Slowly, he begins melt through the stained plaster barrier, and he quickly grips Harry's arm so that the bewildered boy is pulled through along with him.

The room, if it can be called that, is a closet-sized space with one entire side being made up of a large, sturdy fireplace. Aside from this fixture, the room is bare save for a small, curved shelf protruding from the wall to their right. Charlie deftly pulls two coins from within his robes, and deposits them onto the ledge. Moments later, the coins disappear to be replaced with a tiny cloth pouch. Charlie takes it, upending the small purse over his open palm, and Harry recognizes the substance that spills out as floo powder. Charlie closes his fist around the small mound, dropping the bag back onto the shelf where it disappears silently.

"Think of it like the wizarding version of a payphone," he says, grinning when Harry looks startled at the muggle reference. "The reserve in Romania is pretty well surrounded by muggle populations, I've learned quite a bit over the years." His smile faded now, and Harry could sense that they were turning their attention to the serious task at hand. "Are you absolutely sure about this Harry? We don't know if this is going to work, and we both know Dumbledore will keep you safe if you change your mind and we return to headquarters right now."

"I know he would," Harry replied softly, but with a clear tone of resolve. "And to be honest, some small part of me thinks that the idea of escaping from the wizarding world right now, from what they're saying about me…" He blushed at Charlie's questioning look. "I read some of the old _Daily Prophets_ you had laying around while you were back at headquarters. I didn't mean to snoop, I was just trying to find a distraction. But they're calling me a liar, mental even; they say I'm just trying to get attention claiming Voldemort is back." Charlie could hear the anger in the young man's voice, but more so the hurt, and he had to fight down a strong urge to wrap him in a strong hug. "Anyway," Harry continued, actually shaking his head a bit as though this would clear any unwanted thoughts. "Getting away from all that was just a tad bit tempting once I got over my initial anger with the Ministry. But if I do that, it's like I'm admitting to it. No one will ever believe he's back then, not until it's too late. So many people could die if no one is prepared for him."

Charlie was speechless. He would have been proud of Harry if he had said he needed to do this to stand up for himself and prove that he was telling the truth. Now, though, Charlie very much doubted that that line of thinking had every crossed the younger man's mind. No, Harry could not care less, it would seem, what his own reputation or ill-treatment was, so long as he could continue trying to protect the very people against him.

"That's not your responsibility, Harry," he said quietly, trying to catch the other man's eye.

"I think… if everyone only ever did what they _had_ to for other people, this world would be a very sad place. After all, that's why you bonded with me isn't it?" His smile was so honest and grateful, and Charlie felt sick to his stomach knowing that while he did very much want to help Harry, many of his other reasons for bonding with him had been far less noble. Filled with a new resolve, he squared his shoulders and turned to the fireplace.

"Who are you calling, anyway?" Harry asked, hoping to finally be taken out of the dark.

"Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Harry's eyebrows shot up at this news, and Charlie nodded grimly. "Dad introduced us once when I was visiting him at work, they get on all right, and I got the impression she didn't hold much patience for Fudge. I was thinking I drop her a call and see if she wouldn't terribly mind me stepping through for short chat. If I were to pull you along with me, well, the more the merrier… I hope." Harry opened his mouth and closed it again several times, thinking of all the many ways this plan could go wrong. Then, after a last moment of debate (and a fierce struggle to silence the little voice in his head doing a wonderful impression of a scolding Hermione), he simply asked,

"And you think that's going to work?"

"With a little luck and a lot of prayer, I hope it will."

"Prayers to who?"

"Whomever's listening."

XxXxXxXxX

Amelia Susan Bones removed the reading glasses perched precariously on her nose and sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose in mostly futile attempt to stem of the threatening migraine. She was a fairly plane-looking witch, straight grey hair cropped close and a square jaw that most attributed as the cause to the very serious aura she had about her. In truth, she had always been a most care-free child, and a joyful personality had followed her well into early adulthood. All that had changed after the Dark Lord's first rise, when her family was torn apart by Voldemort. He had come after her parents first, taking their lives in the same night. This alone she may have survived with her love and optimism intact, but then Death Eaters had gone after her brother Edgar, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He, along with his wife and their two young children had been murdered, and Madam Bones had thrown herself into her work at the Ministry, quickly climbing the political ladder.

She has no doubt she would have kept the world shut out completely had it not been for her younger sister, Arabelle, and the birth of her niece and namesake, Susan. With the fall of Voldemort mere weeks after the joyous occasion, she had finally began sorting out the priorities in her life, and deeply regretted having not taken a more active role in the fight against the Dark Lord.

Now Harry Potter, with Albus Dumbledore backing his story, was claiming that Voldemort had returned. As she stared down at the letter from that incompetent oaf Fudge issuing orders for a full Ministry effort into locating and securing young Potter, Madam Bones found herself once again in the position to consider a choice between career and the duty she felt to do what she could to fight the Dark Lord.

She was pulled from thoughts by a flash of green flames in her grate, just before the face of one of Arthur Weasley's sons appeared in her fire.

"Madam Bones," he greeted her, dipping his head respectfully in her direction. "I am not sure if you will recognize me, but my name is Charlie Weasley. I understand that you are a very important individual and I am sure you are terribly busy, but I wonder if I might endeavor to take up just a moment of your time? I would be very grateful if you were to allow me to step through into your office."

"I do recognize you Charlie, yes. Your father speaks very highly of all of his children." As she returned his greetings, Amelia's mind was racing. It may not be talked about out in the open, but everyone knew that Arthur's loyalties lay firmly with Albus Dumbledore and she had no doubt in her mind that he, and in all likelihood his eldest sons, were a part of the Order of the Phonenix just as her dear late brother had been. She had been looking for a way to offer her services, and now one had dropped so conveniently into her lap. With a smile and casual flick of her wand which undermined the complicated non-verbal spell she had just performed to temporarily remove the block on her floo connection, she extended her welcome to the young man waiting patiently for her response. "Do come in."

To her credit, she merely blinked suddenly as not only Charlie but Harry Potter himself stepped into her office, and when the red-head had steadied the younger man with a firm grip on his shoulder, she beckoned both of them to the chairs in front of her desk with a warm,

"Please sit, both of you. Tea?" Harry waited for Charlie's response, and when he took in the sickly pale color of the man's skin and the beads of sweat beginning to break out on his forehead as he shook his head no, Harry realized that Charlie had gotten them this far, now it would have to be his show.

"Tea would be delightful, thank you," he spoke up, hoping his voice was sounded much more confident to her ears than it did to his own. He caught Charlie's thankful glance out of the corner of his eye, and let that thought bolster him as he continued. "I want to thank you for your hospitality and allowing Charlie and myself to drop in on you like this. I apologize for the slight deceit prior to my arrival, but I am afraid my past dealings with the Ministry have not always been… ideal."

"I am aware of your past, and current, interactions with the Ministry Mr. Potter, and my office to be more accurate. I must admit I am rather surprised that you have chosen to come here today… given the circumstances. Biscuit?"

"No, thank you," Harry replied mildly, actually fighting to hold back a grin at the casual way she got right to the point in the middle of offering him tea. Charlie, he noticed, had blanched at her words and slumped down in her chair, but Harry had spent more time with the headmaster in the past four years than perhaps any other student in their time, and this was familiar territory for him, almost like a particularly poetic game.

"Ah yes, the circumstances. I am afraid, pardon me for saying so, that your office has made some grave error. You see, it is simply not possible for me to have cast the Patronus charm in Little Whinging, as I was at that time vacationing in Romania with Charlie." Madam Bones raised a thin eyebrow at this explanation, and felt the edges of her mouth twitch towards a smile as she handed the tea over to Harry. The Weasley boy looked as though he were about to lose his lunch, but Harry simply sipped at his tea as though they were merely discussing the weather. She was impressed, and amused despite her usually stern demeanor.

"Indeed? Well I assure you Mr. Potter, my office takes such accusations extremely seriously. I am afraid that it will take more than simply your word on the matter to clear this up this… unfortunate situation." In all honesty, her mind was spinning to come up with some feasible way to get the boy out of the Ministry without anyone else being aware of his visit in the first place. It took guts to come here and try to take care of the problem on his own, but it had been foolish.

"I completely understand," Harry answered, and was pleased to see that he had surprised the witch with his easy acceptance of her speculation. "That is precisely why I am here. I feel simply terrible that I was not able to respond to the indictments from the start, but I seem to have missed your correspondence until today, due I am sure to the fact that I was ensconced in a heavily guarded dragon reserve in Romania. Nevertheless, I felt it best to drop by as soon as I became aware of the situation, and I thought this," he pulled out his wand and lay it on the desk in front of him, careful not to let his nerves shine through his forcibly casual act, "might help."

Madam Bones stared at the wand in astonishment. With a quick snap of her fingers a house elf appeared and after a quick whispered conversation, he disappeared only to return moments later with a scroll. Bones dismissed him kindly before waving her own wand over Harry's with a muttered incantation, while simultaneously consulting the parchment in her hand. After a few moments of this, she sat back in her chair and regarded him curiously.

"It appears, Mr. Potter, that this is in fact your own wand, registered with the Ministry of Magic. From my diagnostic run, it would appear, too that, not only has your magical signature remained locked firmly to this wand and never strayed to another, but this wand has not been cast since what appears to be, I would presume, the last day of the Hogwarts semester. It seems," her eyes began to twinkle in a way that Harry had only ever seen Dumbledore achieve, and he had the uncanny feeling that she was well aware there was more to the story than they were sharing, but simply willing to let them spin their tale without her interference. "It seems as though we owe you an apology; what an embarrassing mishap. Still, I must request, for formality sake, that I reveal the most recent use of your wand; I do hope you will forgive the indignity."

"But of course, please feel free." Madam Bones made sure to wave her wand and speak extremely clearly, wishing to leave no doubt in a pensive memory that the spell had been cast correctly. Slowly, due to weeks of neglect, the wand shimmered for a moment and then a thin thread of smoke drifted from the end, revealing a whispy image of a lumos spell, a summoning spell, expelliarmus…" Bones allowed the spell to unravel through several more mundane castings before ending the connection with a smile.

"Well, it seems that everything is in order. I offer you my sincerest apologies for the mix-up, and thank you again for this… enlightening visit." Harry shook her hand, biting his lips to keep from grinning like an idiot, than hurriedly dragged an extremely shocked Charlie towards the floo.

"No problem at all, really, and thank you for the tea. Unfortunately, we really must get going. Am I to assume the proper paperwork will be handled in my absence to drop the charges against me so that I may no longer fear arrest and the destruction of my wand?" Madam Bones inclined her head in agreement, fighting back a chuckle at the thought of Cornelius' reaction.

"You may. I also rather think that I have hearing to cancel, as there hardly seems precedent any longer." Harry returned her nod and reached into a small bowl of floo powder that Amelia pointed out to him and tossed it into the fire. Just before he was about to drag Charlie with him back into the flames, Madam Bones strode to the front of her desk so that she was mere feet away from him.

"Charlie, do tell Albus when you see him next that I should like to visit with him at his earliest convenience." Her words seemed innocent enough, but Harry saw how she watched like a hawk for the red-head's reaction. Charlie, however, appeared to have picked up on this as well and merely straightened himself up and nodded briskly, not breaking eye contact with the dignified witch.

"I will pass on the message." Amelia nodded and offered the smallest of smiles, then waited as both young men disappeared from her office once more. She casually waved her wand to close off floo access once more, then returned to her seat with a chuckle, eager to write the minister and inform him of this most unexpected turn of events.


	18. Chapter 18

~ Chapter Eighteen ~

Harry had felt strong and sure of himself during the meeting with Madam Bones. He didn't really understand where his nerve had come from, but suspected it had something to do with the way Charlie had turned to him when he couldn't figure out what to say, as though it was perfectly natural to trust Harry to step up and have his back. After weeks sitting at the Dursleys' with no news and years before that of only ever being expected to play along once the adults had sorted out his life for him, Harry had felt honored by the responsibility Charlie entrusted in him.

Now, however, watching as 12 Grimmauld Place appeared in front of them, he began to wonder if such accountability was really all it was cracked up to be. He felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder, and looked up to see Charlie standing next to him, deathly pale but still managing a weak smile for his sake. Harry wondered if Charlie always paled this often, or if this was already a negative byproduct of agreeing to bond with the Boy Who Lived.

This last thought had Harry frowning, momentarily distracted from the unpleasant task ahead of him. Just the day before, Charlie had been living life exactly how he wanted, hidden away with his dragons in Romania. Since then, because of Harry, he had housed a fugitive, defied Dumbledore and the Order, made a life-long bond (to another man, no less), snuck said fugitive into the Ministry of Magic, and rather than complaining or cursing the ground Harry walked on, he was trying to be the strong one so that Harry had the encouragement he needed to face the consequences of his actions. Whatever happened now, they were in this together, and Harry wasn't about to hide behind the other man; he had nothing to be ashamed of.

Resolve renewed, Harry's expression hardened in grim determination and he marched towards the front door, trusting Charlie to follow after him. He allowed himself just enough time to take a deep breath and flex his hand nervously after reaching the front door before he twisted it open and stepped in past the threshold in a single movement.

At first, it seemed that the anxious flurry of people passing by en route from the kitchen to the library were not going to notice him. Then, Arthur Weasley stepped out of the kitchen and froze in his tracks, eyes locked with Harry's.

"Harry, thank Merlin," he exclaimed loudly, before striding forward and pulling the boy into a fierce, albeit slightly awkward, hug. By the time he was released, Order members were piling into the entrance way, as though needing to see for themselves that Harry had returned in one piece before they would believe it. He was suddenly surrounded, unable to discern one question from another as they piled on top of each other and flew at him from every direction. It was quickly becoming overwhelming when a set of bright blue eyes caught his and the others hastily quieted down, looking back and forth from Dumbledore to Harry.

"Perhaps," the headmaster interrupted softly, "I might speak to Harry alone." His voice was calm, but his eyes were guarded, and for some reason he couldn't fully explain Harry had the feeling that if he wanted to be treated differently, and not just because Charlie forced the issue for him, he had to start now.

"If it's all the same to you, Professor, I would rather you allowed everyone to stay for this conversation. No doubt they are all here as a result of some grand-scale search effort for me, I think that makes them involved. And regardless, they will all learn of the… circumstances… eventually. This seems a far more efficient approach." If anyone was surprised by his even-toned request, no one spoke up. More surprisingly, perhaps, was the headmaster's almost immediate murmur of agreement before he ushered the curious crowd back in through the kitchen door.

Harry made note of the various looks he received as the others passed by him, he and Dumbledore remaining where they stood facing each other. Mr. Weasley still looked simply relieved, Kingsly disapproving, Hagrid waved happily as he lumbered past, McGonagall merely looked tired, and Sirius, of course, winking conspiratorially at him. There were many more, Harry having arrived unintentionally just as the entire search party was regrouping to brainstorm new locations to explore. Charlie stepped towards him, hesitating, but after searching Harry's eyes for a moment he, too, disappeared into the kitchen. Dumbledore's gaze sharpened as he watched the exchange, and Harry decided it was for the best that he had already planned to treat the news like a band-aid and just rip it off, else the meddlesome man would surely have figured things out on his own soon enough.

Just as the last people were moving past him, there was a loud creak from the landing above, followed by a barely decipherable hushing sound. Harry looked at Dumbledore and actually had to bite back a smile at the indulgent sparkle in his eyes. With a shrug, Harry caught the man's attention.

"It might just be easier to let them come in…" he suggested, trailing off uncertainly. After a short pause followed by a shallow nod of assent, the headmaster spoke genially to the room at large.

"In this particular instance, I agree with Mr. Potter. The results of this conversation are not likely to be kept secret from any of you for long; Miss Granger, why don't you gather the younger Weasleys together and join us?" There was silence for a few moments, then Fred and George strolled merrily out from behind a door on one end of the landing, and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood sheepishly from behind a ledge at the other end, both groups making their way down to where Harry and Dumbledore stood. "After you, Harry." With a nod, Harry led the group into the kitchen and, after only a moment's hesitation, continued to the head of the table.

Mrs. Weasley looked about to object as her children cautiously followed Dumbledore into the room. She held her tongue when Albus raised a hand to her in a clear warning for silence, but it didn't stop her from fuming mutely from her seat. Dumbledore, to the discomfort of many in the room, chose an open seat partway down one side of the table then folded his hands and looked to Harry expectantly. Slowly, the rest of the room followed his gaze and Harry swallowed thickly as every eye in the room trained on him.

"I realize this is probably somewhat… unprecedented. However, I wanted you to all hear a few things from me. First of all, I want to apologize for the worry I caused everyone, and for the trouble you all went to trying to find me." Immediately, he was interrupted by the twins.

"Come off it, mate…"

"…it's not like you came up with the idea…"

"…or agreed to it…"

"…or even knew what was happening…"

"…before our portkey whisked you away!" Harry, taking a leaf out of the headmaster's book, held his hand up and was gratified, if not a bit uncomfortable, when both Fred and George stopped talking at once. He had anticipated their disagreement, and while they made a valid point, the Harry who had watched Cedric Diggory die had a much better understanding of responsibility and blame, and could see his own failings, where a younger version of himself may not have.

"Maybe, but I did nothing to contact the Order, either, once I figured out what had happened. And for that I apologize." His eyes swept around the room in order to encompass them all in his apology. Moody smiled at him approvingly; Snape's expression was unreadable, though Harry was fairly certain he had never seen this particular look directed at him; Hermione beamed at him. "I would also like to share with all of you what happened a few nights ago. Two dementors showed up at Little Whinging and went after my cousin. I wasn't with him at the time, but figured out what was going on when I heard some of his friends talking after they had abandoned him. He had no way to fight them off, couldn't even see them as it turns out, and I went after him." Harry paused in his story and blushed. "Of course, I hadn't had my wand all summer and had no idea where my uncle had put it, so I really had no way to fight them off either. I believe Professor Snape would make a comment about foolish Gryffindors right about here, if he were telling the story." The man in question scowled, and there were a few soft chuckles from around the table.

"Albus said _you_ got rid of the dementors. How is that possible if you had no wand?" Harry searched out McGonagal as she asked her question, and nodded slightly at her to show he had heard her question.

"To be perfectly honest professor, I have no idea. One of the dementors was about to 'kiss' Dudley, and I remember being on my knees, holding myself up with one hand and reaching towards him with the other, wishing with everything I had that I was holding a wand and could cast the Patronus charm, and the next thing I know I felt this… surge, sort of, of power. My Patronus was suddenly running down the dementors." This time, reactions were much stronger, and everyone was talking at once.

"—cast a Patronus charm without a wand? Preposterous—!"

"—coulda said something before, blimey, Harry—"

"—calling my godson a liar?! I'll—"

"—isn't helping, if you would all just _listen_—"

"—_dare_ you point your wand at me, you—"

"—hardly appropriate in front of these children—"

"—know better than to share classified information like that without—"

"—Fred and George are _of age_, for Merlin's—"

The arguing continued to escalate and Harry grew fed-up when wands began to be drawn and chairs were knocked over as witches and wizards leapt to their feet around the kitchen.

"ENOUGH! _Expelliarmus_!" If his furious shout hadn't gotten their attention, the fact that nearly every wand in the room (aside from those belonging to Albus, Severus, and Alastor) flew into the air and fell with a clatter on the table in front of Harry certainly did.

The silence that followed was thick, and Harry took a few calming breaths before continuing. Oddly, Snape's advice about finding the center of his magic seemed to apply to his emotions as well, and he once again thought how odd it was that the potion master's words proved such a comfort.

"The _point_ is that whatever happened triggered my full powers to come in, and I lost control of my magic." The room sobered quickly, returning to their seats as Harry unconsciously traced a few of the faded lines left in his hands from the pure magic that had sparked through him. "It was determined that it wouldn't be safe for my magic to stay wild like that and just settle naturally over time. Dumbledore told me that I was to go through a traditional wizarding bond to tie my magic down."

At this, those who had not been privy to the private meeting in which the decision was made reacted with varying degrees of shock. Ron looked pale, his freckles standing out too brightly along his face; McGonagal was looking at the headmaster incredulously; even Hagrid had lost his smile. Taking a deep breath, Harry decided to push right along.

"I agree with this decision." While not the wand-waving uproar of a few minutes ago, the announcement did illicit a great deal of muttering and disbelieving looks. Snape scowled; Molly sat up straight, chest puffed out proudly as she smiled pleasantly at him; Kingsly's eyebrows had risen so high they appeared to be hiding behind his cap. Knowing that the worst was yet to come, Harry plowed on.

"Professor Dumbledore, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your efforts to make me as happy as possible when I bonded." He carefully ignored the guarded look that suddenly set into Molly's eyes, as well as the questions that seemed ready to fly out of Arthur's mouth. Instead, he pulled on his deepest reserves of bravery and forced himself to turn to Ginny, who suddenly turned bright red and began to sink down into her chair. "Gin, you're amazing, you know I think that. But I also think of you like my own little sister, and I want you to fall in love and be happy." He didn't wait for her reaction, and though he could feel where the tips of his ears had gone red, he turned to Dumbledore. He studiously avoided make eye contact with anyone else, particularly Ron who was staring down at his sister in horror. "So, headmaster, I will not be bonding with Ginny."

"Of course you will!" All heads turned immediately to Mrs. Weasley, whose smile was now more of a grimace.

"Mum…" Ginny muttered pleadingly, hiding her face in her hands.

"Molly, that's enough."

"No Arthur, this is ridiculous! Harry, you are only a child and as such I don't expect you to understand the complexities of the situation. Ginny is the perfect match for you in this bond. And Arthur and I will make sure you are always protected, as is our duty as guardians. We'll keep the marriage proper, of course, until you are both of a more appropriate age, and—"

"MOLLY." Arthur's voice was much harsher the second time, and his eyes flashed warningly. Suddenly noticing the looks of surprise and disapproval she was receiving from others in the room, Mrs. Weasley seemed to decide and a new tactic. With a bitter sounding sob, she burst into tears and buried her head against her very uncomfortable-looking husband's shoulder.

"I-I just want to see you safe, Harry dear. Surely you know that I see you as my own son? I-I-I'm so sorry, I've tried to show you how much you mean to me, but I must have done something to drive you away from me, I just thought you would want to see me as a mother-figure in your life…" Harry, unused to dealing with crying women and already feeling extraordinarily frazzled by the entire situation, was quickly losing color in his face, and nerve along with it.

"No, that's not… I didn't mean… I'm so thankful for everything you've done for me Mrs. Weasley, of course I'd love to see you as a m-mother-figure—"

"Which is why it will work so well for Harry to be bonded with me." Harry wasn't the only one whose head whipped around in shock at Charlie's sudden contribution to the conversation. The red-head in question, however, either didn't notice the attention riveted on him or didn't care, choosing instead to focus his energy on glaring at his mother. "How dare you? Harry's seen little enough of love in his life already without you brandishing yours at him like blackmail! He agrees to be forced into a permanent marriage bond before he's even started his fifth year, all to keep you lot safe, and that's still not good enough for you?! You never even consulted him on who you were going to match him up with—never consulted Ginny, either, by the looks of things!" The man was livid, and Harry noticed that the rest of the Weasleys were slowly backing away from the table, all too familiar with the famous Weasley temper. Harry was immensely grateful that neither Molly nor Charlie currently had their wands.

"I've done nothing of the sort! And what is this nonsense about Harry bonding with you? Of course he won't be bonding with you. His magic probably wouldn't even bond to yours, it has to be compatible with Harry's wild power and Dumbledore says that underage magic is the best shot. Besides, do you have any idea what people would _say_ if they heard of two men bonding? What that would look like to anyone who didn't know it wasn't real? I won't have you disgracing the House of Weasley in such a fashion!" Harry, Charlie, Fred, George, and Bill all froze at the statement. For a moment, no one in the kitchen dared to do more than breath. Then Sirius slowly pushed his chair back and stood, walking over to Harry and deftly plucking his wand from the pile in front of his godson.

"That should hardly be a problem," he said to Molly, voice deadly calm. With a flick of his wand, a string of pale blue light appeared, stretching from where it wrapped around Charlie's wand hand and arm to where it mirrored this on Harry's. "I present to you Mr. and Mr. Potter."

XxXxXxXxX

To say that Severus Snape was surprised would be an immense understatement. In fact, he could not remember the last time his emotions had changed so many times in such a short period.

"_I realize this is probably somewhat… unprecedented."_ Severus had given Harry his most well-practiced look of disdain as the boy had stood at the head of the table, addressing the Order as though he had done anything in his short life to warrant such a position of respect. Then again, he had always needed to be the center of attention. Famous Harry Potter…

"_Maybe, but I did nothing to contact the Order, either, once I figured out what had happened. And for that I apologize." _Snape had originally written Potter's apology off as simply a ploy to maintain his sweet and innocent façade. His reaction to the Weasley twins' outburst, however, had left the potion's master uncharacteristically caught off guard. This was not the sort of insight he would have thought the Boy Who Lived capable of, and for all the Snape tried to see some ulterior motive or gain for the boy, Snape had to admit the apology actually seemed sincere…

"_I believe Professor Snape would make a comment about foolish Gryffindors right about here, if he were telling the story." _Snape had scowled deeply, but couldn't deny to himself that the comment had made the corners of his mouth twitch. Since when did he start finding Potter's comments bearable, much less amusing…?

"…_the next thing I know I felt this… surge, sort of, of power. My Patronus was suddenly running down the dementors." _As the room around him erupted with disbelief and concern, Snape's attention remained focused on Potter. What the boy had described… shouldn't have been possible. Not for a wandless, underage wizard. And yet it would explain why Harry's full powers were showing up so suddenly and with such force. He had already admitted, to himself at least, that Harry was not to blame for the danger and unpredictability of his wild magic. Hearing the slightest edge of fear and confusion in the boy's voice as he described his wandless magic, however, left Severus feeling strangely… sorry for the son of James Potter, and that was an emotion he had never been prepared to entertain…

"_ENOUGH! Expelliarmus!" _Snape would never admit to anyone just how close he had come to losing hold of his wand at Potter's explosive disarming spell. He was glad, too, that the entire room was preoccupied for he hadn't been able to keep a look of astonishment from flashing across his face for just a moment as nearly every wand in the room went soaring to the fuming young man. If the boy was capable of this with only anger to fuel his actions… Severus nearly shuddered at the idea of what Potter could do once he learned to harness and control his full powers…

"_I agree with this decision."_ Bloody buggering Harry Potter! Snape scowled deeply as he felt a hint of respect try to force its way to his consciousness. He had felt similarly when Dumbledore had first explained his plan to have the boy bonded. He actually could have hexed Shacklebolt for his insinuation that Harry was being selfish for not being pleased with the prospect of being auctioned off like a prize hog. Even Severus could acknowledge that Harry—that _Potter_—had taken the news with far more dignity and maturity than befit a fourteen-year-old…

"_Gin, you're amazing, you know I think that. But I also think of you like my own little sister, and I want you to fall in love and be happy."_ Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. He was trying desperately to find some sort of benefit Potter would gain from his selfless attitude, if for no other reason than to end this despicable roller-coaster of emotions. He could find none, however, and even suspected that the boy had no idea his words had indicated an unspoken acceptance that he was somehow not worthy of falling in love and finding happiness himself…

"_Which is why it will work so well for Harry to be bonded with me."_ At Charlie's snarl, Snape had actually felt his jaw drop open. _This_ had been Potter's brilliant plan? The Gryffindor golden boy, bonding to another man and effectively destroying any reputation he might still maintain after the Ministry's efforts to discredit him since the Triwizard Tournament. Snape couldn't wrap his mind around it. Suddenly boxing Potter into the image of self-centered, selfish, attention-seeking celebrity was feeling more and more like trying to shove a square peg through round slot…

"…_Besides, do you have any idea what people would say if they heard of two men bonding? What that would look like to anyone who didn't know it wasn't real? I won't have you disgracing the House of Weasley in such a fashion!"_ Snape thanked years of practice pretending to be a faithful Death Eater for not succumbing to desire and hexing Molly Weasley on the spot. He never ceased to see the irony that the overwhelming majority of homophobia and prejudice he had experienced during his life had come from those claiming to be on the side of Light and Love. Unbeknownst (thankfully) to Severus, he then shared Harry's thought that it was a good thing neither Molly nor Charlie currently had their wands…

"_I present to you Mr. and Mr. Potter."_ As though in a perfectly planned final act for his tailspin of emotions, Snape actually felt the stirrings of… pride? For Potter? Severus shuddered at the mere thought. He had all but written the boy's future off as doomed as soon as Albus had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he _would_ be calling in the life debt owed him by that mangy mut to force the man's consent to Potter's bonding. But he hadn't actually called in the debt at all yet, had he? And not even Dumbledore, in all his wisdom and meddling, could un-do a life-long bond simply because it didn't fit in with his plans. Snape thought back to Charlie Weasley's defiance to the headmaster regarding his dragons. Severus had to admit that given the choice between Molly and Charlie for one's temporary guardian, Charlie was overwhelmingly the better option…

Severus shook himself from his disturbingly emotional thoughts just in time to take in Mrs. Weasley's explosion.

"CHARLES WILLIAM WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU BOND WITH HARRY! HOW DARE YOU INTERFERE WITH MY—THE ORDER'S PLANS IN THIS WAY! HOW—"

"Potter," Charlie told her smugly, interrupting her rant before it could gain too much momentum. "My name is now legally Charles William Potter." Molly looked ready to physically lunge at her son, who appeared eager for the challenge, before Dumbledore finally stepped in.

"Molly, Charlie, that is quite enough. As Sirius has demonstrated, the bond has been cast; no amount of arguing is going to change that." He looked to the head of the table then, where Harry still stood as though struck mute by Charlie's actions. "My boy… I wish you had spoken to me first. If I had known how strongly you feel against a union with Miss Weasley… but alas, what's done is done. I'm afraid you have not grasped the extent of our present concerns, however. There is the matter of your underage wizardry to contend with. I had not wanted to place this extra burden on your shoulders just yet, but as Charlie is now, whether he intended so or not, your guardian, you both need to understand the severity of—" an odd chime went off somewhere in the hallway, and Moody quickly stood and left the room. Harry, realizing he had rather lost ground in his attempt to handle his own affairs, took advantage of the interruption.

"I was not put into a position to offer an opinion prior to the decision being made, professor. And if you remember, I did try to voice my objections, rather explosively so, as I recall." Harry had the decency to blush at the memory of losing complete control of his magic when no one would listen to him and take him seriously after Dumbledore told him he would bond with Ginny. "As for the rest of it, Hedwig managed to intercept two letters sent for me by the Ministry, which—" Mad-Eye limped back into the room, looking as though at any moment he would burst into raucous laughter. In his hand was a letter, the parchment now easily recognizable to Harry, and he was not surprised when it was handed to him, the top already slit open, Alastor having vetted this correspondence as he did every letter that went into or out of headquarters.

**Dear Mr. Potter, **

**It has come to my attention that after an unannounced, unscheduled visit to the Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement earlier today, you have been declared cleared of all charges. Furthermore, I am informed that due to the clarity and reliability of a volunteered pensieve memory of your interrogation, you case has been deemed unavailable for repeal meaning, as it were, that there is not chance of charges resurfacing**

**As such, you are once again a pupil of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and will retain possession of your wand. **

**I am further informed that I am to notify you that your presence is no longer required at a disciplinary. Hoping you are well. **

**Yours Sincerely,**

**Majalda Hopkirk**  
**Improper Use of Magic Office**  
**Ministry of Magic**

Grinning like an idiot, Harry walked down the table to Dumbledore and handed the parchment over with no explanation. Waiting until the headmaster snapped his sharp gaze up to Harry's face after rapidly reading the letter.

"Madam Bones requested that you pay her a visit at your earliest convenience, by the way. Was there anything else, professor? Because sticking to the theme of complete honesty this evening, I think I might actually pass out from pain and exhaustion if I don't get some sleep soon."

It was only then that anyone noticed the trembling limbs and beads of sweat on a pale, clammy brow.

* * *

Author note: Hello hello hello, my lovely readers! Poor Severus, all the feels this chapter. I wanted to thank you all again for continuing to read my story, especially those who posted reviews. One thing I've noticed this past week is that the middle of the night is not a productive time to grammar-check my writing, especially when waking up at 6am all week and juggling four jobs. I have received more than one head's up that I have been missing silly mistakes (really silly, I feel ridiculous when I re-read the chapter and find them all), so I am going to start posting every other day, in order to have a day to write and a day to edit. Hopefully this is still fast-paced enough for all my loyal readers!

I think you are all wonderful, thanks again for reading!

-Emmette


	19. Chapter 19

~ Chapter Nineteen ~

"…_sticking to the theme of complete honesty this evening, I think I might actually pass out from pain and exhaustion if I don't get some sleep soon."_

At Harry's words, the headmaster rose swiftly from his chair, holding out his arms to steady the young man who did indeed look ready to collapse. Harry swayed slightly, shooting one hand out to the side to steady himself on the table while the other lifted shakily to cradle his head.

"Albus, what is it?" Harry thought that might have been Sirius' voice, rising above the worried murmurs of others in the room, but was having a difficult time concentrating enough to be sure. He felt strangely off balance, and he let his eyelids drift shut as the chatter around him became muted, as though he were listening in on the conversations from underwater. A cool hand on his forehead roused him slightly, and he blinked his eyes open to see Charlie regarding him with a worried frown. The red-head held his gaze as he began speaking, but some distant part of Harry's mind pieced together that the words were meant for someone else.

"It was like this earlier, right after the bond, except he kept getting these awful tremors then." Harry tried to look past Charlie to see who else was gathered around, but the room seemed to be spinning and he quickly closed his eyes once again, settling for listening in as Dumbledore began giving instructions.

"His body may not be adjusting correctly to the new stores of power. Charlie, Bill, help Harry onto the table, he should be lying down. Minerva, fetch Madam Pomfrey please, tell her it is urgent. I have already spoken the location of headquarters to her, in case a situation such as this was to arise. Sirius, his head should be propped up, if you wouldn't mind." Harry felt himself being gently man-handled onto the smooth, cold surface of the kitchen table, and let himself be guided and shifted around like a rag-doll. He hadn't understood the headmaster's instructions to his godfather, but the sound of nails tapping across a hard surface and the sudden soft warmth of something behind his neck and shoulders cleared things up. Sirius poked at Harry's cheek softly with his wet nose, a low whine starting in his throat. Harry just leaned back into the animagus' furry side and reached behind without bothering to open his eyes first, finding the soft fur on the side of Snuffle's muzzle.

"Good doggy," he whispered, too far out of it to feel any sort of trepidation at his godfather's reaction. Somewhere in the background, Albus continued.

"Molly, if you could escort Miss Granger and your younger children from the room. Severus, we'll wait for Poppy's orders, but I am sure we will be in need of pepperup potion as well as a mild nerve replenisher. If I could trouble you to return to your stores at Hogwarts, you could return with Poppy. Anyone else who does not need to be in the room, I would ask that you leave now…" It took Harry a few extra moments to figure out why the mention of the potion master's name left him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but as soon as he connected the dots he felt the haziness fading as his heart sped up anxiously. He forced his eyes open and interrupted Dumbledore urgently.

"Snape. Professor, he's in trouble. I had a vision… Voldemort knows, Snape… he can't…" Harry frowned in frustration, finding it nearly impossible at the moment to string a simple sentence together. Luckily, Charlie picked up on the problem and stepped in.

"Harry had a vision of Voldemort talking to his snake, Nagini. He knows there is a spy in his ranks, and he plans on catching them red-handed. He's going to start letting plans slip, a different hint to each person, and when the spy passes the information onto the Order, Voldemort will know exactly who did it." Harry managed to squint his eyes open while Charlie spoke, watching to see how others reacted to the news. Dumbledore was looking gravely across the table, and after carefully turning his head Harry could see that his eyes were locked with Snape's. The potions master held himself perfectly still, a blank expression on his face. Harry could see where the man's jaw was clenched tightly shut, though, and he suspected the professor was far more affected by the news than he was letting on.

"Severus, I wish to speak with you when you have returned with the potions," Albus said simply, and Harry frowned as a flash of something suspiciously like disappointment sparked in Snape's eye for a moment, before he jerked his head in a brisk nod. He would never know, looking back on the moment, what exactly possessed him to speak up, but some part of him still smarting from this most recent attempt to use him as a pawn of war couldn't stand the thought of not so much as a heart-felt platitude being offered on Snape's behalf.

"Stay safe, professor," he managed to croak out softly through the pain. Severus didn't respond, not even pausing as he turned to the fireplace to floo through to Hogwarts. Harry didn't really mind, as any reply would no doubt have been cutting and sarcastic, but he found himself oddly hopeful that his words had been heard.

He painfully turned his head so he was staring upwards once more, and found himself eye to eye with a very worried Charlie, the man's hand once again resting gently on Harry's forehead. Harry's vision began to cloud at the edges, and he smiled stupidly, his words feeling oddly disconnected and involuntary as he spoke them.

"You have nice hands, Mr. Potter." He tried to chuckle at the startled look on the red-head's face, but the next thing he knew, he had drifted into blackness.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie sat in a chair next to Harry's bed, watching his young bond-mate's chest rise and fall while the boy slept. He was hunched over, his head was in his hands, and had barely moved since Harry had been levitated into the room hours before.

Madam Pomfrey had swept in through the floo just as Harry lost consciousness, and if not for her formidable, no-nonsense attitude, the room would have fallen into chaos.

"_Harry? Harry!" Charlie had instantly shaken off the shock at both the odd compliment and being addressed as Mr. Potter as soon as the body below him went limp. For a second he feared the worst, and his heart nearly stopped in his chest. Then there were hands pulling him backwards and out of the way as a shrill voice began barking orders._

"_All of you, back away, I need to get to Mr. Potter immediately! Severus, a nerve replenisher immediately if you will, no doubt some of Potter's have been fried. Of all the foolish, reckless—Albus, how dare you try to take such a drastic short-cut in the boy's powers. It's nature's way for them to come in gradually for a reason! And without even consulting me! Honestly." Madam Pomfrey continued muttering furiously under her breath as she waved her wand above the prone figure on the table, a scroll filling with text out of midair beside her as she cast various diagnostic charms. _

_Charlie fought against the arms around him, trying to return to Harry's side, needing to feel for himself that there was indeed air flowing in and out of his open mouth._

"_Char, stop fighting me, you need to stay back; let Pomfrey work, he's going to be fine. Charlie. Calm. Down!" Bill's firm, soothing voice in his ear eventually began to penetrate the roar of panic that had overwhelmed his senses, and he realized it was his brother who was restraining him, strong arms hooked around his elbows from behind._

_Pomfrey had now plucked the scroll from beside her and was scanning it furiously, brow furrowing more and more the longer she read. Meanwhile, Snape was tilting Harry's head back, pouring small amounts of a copper-colored substance between his lips at a time, then rubbing long fingers over the boy's neck until each mouthful had been swallowed. Madam Pomfrey shook her head and looked to the headmaster with concern._

"_Albus, I need to know Harry's recent health condition. Some of these readings… I need to know what is throwing his normal functioning off before I can figure out how to help him." Dumbledore looked sadly down at his young pupil, and merely shook his head in return._

"_I'm afraid I really don't know, Poppy," he told her guiltily._

"_Well someone must! If you need to bring those muggle relatives of his in here for me to get answers than that is what you will do, but I need this information immediately!" The woman was fuming, and the fire in her eyes was directed entirely at the headmaster._

"_We can tell you…"_

"…_but everyone else needs to leave first." Everyone turned in surprise to see Fred and George standing in the doorway, looking gravely at Harry._

"_Surely if you have something to say that will help to ensure Harry's safety, your friend would understand the need to share that information, under the circumstances," Dumbledore encouraged, clearly not intending to leave any time soon._

"_No, professor, sorry…"_

"…_but Harry would not understand…"_

"…_and a promise is a promise." They finished together. They stared at Dumbledore, who looked ready to disagree. He never got the chance, however, before Madam Pomfrey had cut in harshly._

"_Albus, Severus, Sirius (I know that's you under all that fur!), Bill, Charlie, out! You two—" she turned to face the twins who cowered under her wrath, "If I find out you have nothing useful to say, I'll send you to the infirmary myself!" She looked around at the shocked occupants of the room, none of them able to remember ever hearing her threaten another person in her life. "OUT!" She thundered, and there was a swift rustle of robes as the men rushed to obey. Charlie, however, had renewed his struggles ten-fold as Bill attempted to drag him from the room._

"_Bill, stop it, I need—Bill, LET GO! I need to tell her—I can HELP, bloody Merlin just stop will you—!" Fred and George quickly jumped in front of their brothers and took Bill's arms._

"_Listen to him, Bill…"_

"…_he can help Harry…"_

"…_or at least tell Pomfrey how to help him…"_

"…_he's already healed him once this summer." The cluster of red-heads were oblivious to the looks this announcement received from the rest of the room. Pomfrey, however, simply took Bill by the ear and all but threw him from the room before turning her furious glare at the remaining occupants. _

"_Unless you, too, have relevant medical information to provide, I want you out of this room immediately!" Seeing no choice but to obey, Albus, Severus, and Sirius (a scowling, scruffy man once more) followed Bill out into the corridor, the door slamming shut behind them and the twins immediately casting their complicated series of privacy charms. Pomfrey simply nodded in what might have been approval if she were not so fed up with the situation already. "Now you three, talk!"_

_If there had been fury in the mediwitch's eyes before, it was nothing compared to the look she held as the twins shared what they knew about Harry's treatment over the summer and the events which had led up to his collapse, and Charlie described the injuries he had treated, as well as the effects of the magical surge that Harry had experienced after the bonding._

"…_and when the tremors stopped and Harry got up again, I thought the worst had passed. Merlin, what did I miss?" Charlie ended frantically, once again going to the table and placing a hand on the young boy's forehead. Madame Pomfrey sighed, wanting nothing more than to scold the young man for the part he played in the neglect of Harry's health, but unable to find the heart to do it when he looked so sincerely torn apart by Potter's condition already._

"_Mr. Potter will recuperate from his current condition, but he should __**under no circumstances **__perform magic until he is fully recovered. Honestly, he's lucky he lost his temper in a magically concealed house else he'd have had the ministry on him. Again! I suspect that his expelliarmus is what finally did him in, though it would not have affected him so strongly had he not been malnourished, sleep-deprived, and adjusting to powerful magic coursing through his body for the past several hours!" _

_Charlie winced at the scolding tone, but knew it was well-deserved. He had been so happy to see Harry taking a stand for himself that he had neglected to look out for the young man in the process. He nodded, stricken, and the aging woman finally seemed to have lost her anger, as her face softened watching him brush Harry's bangs back from his forehead._

"_You helped him, Charlie, with everything you've told me. The replenishing potions I've given him should already be working, I was able to heal any residual damage left from those deplorable muggles so his body is no longer wasting energy in healing those wounds, and to be honest there is nothing better for him right now than to rest. What's more, the fact that your magic had already been used to heal him means that the parts of your magic tied to him through your bond have already recognized at least his magical exhaustion and are working to repair whatever damage was done to his core when his full powers flooded in. Not that this excuses you from neglecting to have Harry properly looked over after his relatives' abuse, but you are probably the only reason the boy stayed conscious as long as he did." With that, she gently pushed the red-head away from her patient and levitated Harry off the table, allowing the twins to lead her to Harry's room._

Charlie looked up as he heard the door open and wasn't sure which of the two men who entered concerned him more at the moment; Dumbledore or his father. He sat up straight and nodded in greeting, but did not turn away from Harry's side.

"Charlie my boy, how is he?" Dumbledore was clearly troubled over Harry's condition, but Charlie could not help but keep his guard up around the man.

"Still unconscious. Madam Pomfrey says his body and magic are healing, and not to expect him to wake for some time yet." The headmaster nodded, probably having been told this himself by the witch.

"You needn't stay in here like this, you look as though you could use some rest yourself. Someone else can sit with Harry."

"I am his guardian," Charlie responded firmly, not leaving any room for argument. Truth be told, being Harry's guardian had very little to do with what kept him sitting by the sleeping boy's side, but he felt that this was the most appropriate explanation. Dumbledore nodded once more, not seeing any more surprised by this response than he had by the last.

"Can you tell me anything more of what led to his condition?" Charlie sighed at the pained question. He did not always see eye to eye with the other wizard, but a blind man could see that Dumbledore truly cared for Harry, and probably loved him.

"I can't, sir, I'm sorry. That is a question you will have to ask Harry."

"You healed him earlier this summer. How did you know he was injured? And why wouldn't you tell someone?"

"Fred and George had me swear on our bond as brothers not to tell anyone of the conversation before they even told me what was going on. I agreed, on the condition that no one's life was in danger."

"Why didn't _he_ tell anyone? I knew he was… unhappy with the situation, but he never told me they were harming him physically. I asked, whenever he brought up his relatives. Had I known…" Charlie could feel the anger-driven magic radiating from the man, though much more controlled than what he had experienced when Harry appeared in the reserve. "I would never have left him there if I had known," Dumbledore continued fiercely, "surely he knew that?" His anger seemed to drain away again, and he conjured a chair for himself and Mr. Weasley, slumping most uncharacteristically down into the closest one and reaching past Charlie to take one of Harry's hands in his own.

The three men sat in silence for a time, then Arthur, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up.

"Charlie, explain to me why you bonded with him. Did you do it for Ginny? Was it to protect your sister?" It would have been so easy to say yes, to agree with this version of the truth and ignore the rest. It seemed wrong, though, with the image of Harry standing in front of the entire Order and willingly accepting their judgments fresh in Charlie's mind.

"I didn't want that future for her, but no, that's not really why I did it." His father didn't look surprised by his answer, though he had clearly been hoping that it could have been so simple. "Part of me just wanted to play a part in blowing up the Order's plan. I suppose it's rather obvious I don't always see eye to eye with the decisions made here; I would never have come to terms with this one. Part of me honestly believes it would have been detrimentally foolish to lock Harry safely away until he was seventeen. He would have rebelled, with good reason, rather than cooperate with any training or preparation the Order could provide, and he needs it. As soon as the decision was his own he would have bolted, and he would have done so with no knowledge or resources to survive on. It's not fair that his future will inevitably lead him back to Voldemort, but it is reality. I, for one, would much rather see him willingly fight and train to survive that encounter than slowly lose his mind trapped behind these walls. Part of me looks at him and sees my dragons; sees this beautifully powerful creature who fiercely protects those he loves. Then I see the way everyone around him sees him, as either a danger to be feared or a weapon to be manipulated. I doubt there is very much I wouldn't do to fight that." Dumbledore is still holding Harry's hand, but he is watching Charlie thoughtfully, a slight twinkle finally returning to his eye. Arthur is watching him as well.

"What of your own future Charlie? Every decision you ever made growing up had Fred and George as the top priority; how many times did you sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of theirs? And then they grew up and you graduated, and it became the dragons. You asked me a while back if I was still proud of you. I don't have the words to tell you just how incredibly proud I am. But you're my son. I want to see _you_ happy."

Charlie turned away from the pain in his father's voice, feeling the familiar flutter in his stomach as he looked at the raven-haired boy in front of him. He wished he could reassure his father, tell him just how happy he was to be bonded to this amazing young man, how lucky he had been to have the opportunity to do so, but it was impossible without giving far too much away. In the end, Dumbledore solved the problem for him.

"Perhaps, Arthur, the best thing for such a brave, selfless young man as Charlie to do was find friendship with someone equally as brave and selfless." Mr. Weasley considered these words, looking between his son and the boy that had become a son in all but blood. His eyes showed that he had so much more he wanted to say, but he only nodded and rose to his feet.

"I love you Charlie, and I am always here for you, if you ever… want to talk." It sounded as though he had thought of saying something else, but changed his mind in the end. "Your mother won't come after you in here, Poppy made it very clear that Harry is to be kept away from any stressful situation. You will have to talk to her eventually." He waited until he caught his son's eye before finishing. "You don't have to do it alone, though." With this he left quietly, leaving Charlie to face the headmaster on his own. He turned to the older man patiently.

"I only ever do the best I can, Charlie. And that means I am wrong, sometimes. But whatever else you may think of me… I wish you to know that I truly care for Harry, as a person. I care a very great deal."

"I know that professor." Dumbledore searched his eyes for a hint of sarcasm or deceit, and Charlie calmly let him. With one final nod, he gently moved Harry's hand back onto the bed and stood, transfiguring the two spare chairs into a comfortable looking cot that stood within reaching distance of Harry's bed. He turned and walked quietly to the door. Before he could leave, however, Charlie's voice stopped him.

"Professor?" Albus turned to him expectantly. "Harry knows that too." The older man's entire face softened, and a full twinkle returned to his eyes. He smiled in answer, then stepped aside to allow Fred, who was standing uncertainly in the hallway, to enter the room.

Dumbledore pulled the door shut softly behind him and Fred lay his hand supportively first on Harry's shoulder then on his brother's, before crawling into his bed.

"Goodnight, Charlie." The older red-head pushed his chair aside to climb onto the cot, stretching an arm out so that his hand tangled with Harry's on the bed, carefully keeping his back turned to his brother so he did not have to see the other boy's reaction.

"Goodnight Gred." There was a soft murmur and the lights were extinguished. Within twenty minutes, the only sound in the room was the peaceful breathing of sleeping wizards.


	20. Chapter 20

~ Chapter Twenty ~

When Harry woke the next day, he felt as though he had been run over by a herd of hippogriffs. Twice. At least. He didn't open his eyes right away, years of waking up in the hospital wing teaching him that once he had, the poking, prodding, and foul-tasting potions were swift to follow. Instead, he ran his tongue around his chalk-dry mouth and tried to take stock of whatever damages had landed him in the infirmary this time. Strangely, he had no recollection of being injured, and he considered absentmindedly that this may be cause for concern.

There was a faint burning sensation that seemed to be running through his very veins. Had he been poisoned perhaps? That would be a new one. But no, that didn't explain the way his muscles were throbbing with pain. What had happened then? With a deep, bolstering breath, Harry forced his eyes open.

Instead of the pristine, blinding whiteness of Hogwart's hospital wing, Harry found himself staring up at a dark, ornate ceiling. Had he been wearing his glasses, he could have examined the intricate woodwork. As it was, his blurry view was enough to gather his bearings. Right, Sirius's house; headquarters. And just like that, the memories came flooding back: bonding with Charlie, the trip to the Ministry, the Order meeting… if he strained his memory he could vaguely remember being lain on the table surrounded by nervous chatter before he must have passed out. _"You have nice hands, Mr. Potter."_ Harry winced as the memory clarified. Then, whether spurred on by the strain that slight movement put on his muscles or the embarrassment of the recollection, he eloquently put the experience into words.

"Ow." Suddenly there was the rustle of movement beside his bed, and the next thing he knew Hermione was peering down at him in concern.

"Harry? You're awake! How are you? I mean, of course you're not well, that's why you passed out, but I mean… how is the pain?" It was hard to be annoyed with the girl when she was obviously so worried about him, but he did rather wish she had chosen a softer volume to speak at.

"Th…thirsty," he managed to croak out, and Hermione flushed before diving for a glass of water on the bedside table and carefully helping him lift his head to drink from it. The muscles in his neck and shoulders protested even that much movement, but the water was cold and soothing as it ran down his throat, and Harry quickly decided it was worth it. "Thank you," he told her genuinely when he was once again laying against the pillows, blinking owlishly. Hermione carefully slipped his glasses onto his face and Harry peered around the room curiously. "Where's…?" Once he began the question, he realized he really wasn't sure who he had hoped to see. Ron? Fred and George? Sirius? …Charlie?

"Ron told Ginny and I what he read in that journal Fred and George were using to write to you, and he got really mad at Ginny when she didn't automatically take his side… which made Fred and George really mad, so they started fighting too… which made Bill step in because Ron was getting ganged up on… which pissed Charlie off because he said the twins hadn't done anything wrong… which made Sirius mad because Charlie had left you alone and they were fighting right outside your room and you were supposed to be resting... which made Mrs. Weasley start yelling because she said Sirius had no right to interfere with family matters… and then Madame Pomfrey showed up to check on you and yelled at all of them and told them they aren't allowed anywhere in this hallway for the rest of the day."

"…Oh." Harry wasn't sure he had actually followed all of that, but the basic concept seemed to be that Hermione was the only company he would have for a while.

"Did you really bond with Charlie?" Hermione had spoken almost too softly to be heard, and was now studiously looking everywhere but at Harry. He felt his stomach twist, but had known this conversation was going to have to happen eventually.

"Yes."

"Are you… I mean, do you… like men?" She blushed as she asked the question, but not nearly as brightly as Harry did hearing it.

"What? No! That's… I mean, no, not… I…"

"Oh Harry." His head snapped up at her tone, hearing a mix of exasperation, sorrow, and fondness where he had expected to hear anger and disgust. She reached out and took his hand in hers. "You can tell me the truth Harry, I won't tell anyone." To his utter shock, he realized he wanted to take her up on her offer, wanted someone to know his secret.

"There's nothing to… I'm not…" He shut his eyes tightly, cutting off his own rant and took a deep, shaky breath. "Why can't I ever be normal, 'Mione?"

"Harry Potter, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being gay and I won't stand to hear you talk that way!" His eyes snapped open and shot to Hermione in surprise. She was scowling at him, clearly at the brink of lecture, but her face softened when their eyes met. "Harry, if you can accept whatever is happening with Fred and George, how can you possibly be struggling to accept yourself?" She squeezed his hand gently in support. "Who all have you told?"

"Um… you?" Before he had time to process what was happening, he found himself with a face full of bushy brown hair and Hermione's arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug. "Owwww," he whined piteously, but still returned the hug. No amount of pain worth passing up the rare opportunity.

"Harry, you're such a… a… a _stupid boy_!" She admonished affectionately, and sat up once again, though she still held onto Harry's hand.

"Sure, kick me while I'm down!" He groused back playfully, but his grin was still rather forced. "Hermione… why are you so okay with this? Don't you hate me now, or think I'm sick?"

"Don't be silly! My aunt is a lesbian and she and her partner are absolutely delightful! I grew up in the muggle world, remember Harry? There are a lot of places where gay muggles are very accepted." She sat back, her eyes taking on their typical calculating look as she began connecting dots in her mind. "No wonder you didn't want to bond with Ginny. There really was no chance of a happy ending in that match, was there?"

"Not at all."

"And with Charlie? Is there any potential there…?" Harry's eyes widened, and he was actually able to ignore the pain as he struggled to sit up this time, thought a firm hand on his chest kept him anchored to the bed.

"Wha—no! 'Mione you can't tell _anyone_, not ever, but especially not Charlie! He's given up so much to protect me, and I already feel like I took advantage of him; he bonded with me to be my guardian, and even though I wanted that part of it too, I think a piece of me just… wanted him. I tried to tell him I was gay, but I just… couldn't. He'll probably be horrified he's bonded to me once he realizes. Merlin, I'm such a git." He flung his arms dramatically over his eyes and Hermione had to fight down a small smile at his histrionics.

"Harry—" Whatever she was going to say was cut off by a brisk knock on the door, and the two friends looked up as Madam Pomfrey strode into the room. Harry sank down into the pillows and blankets below him, trying unsuccessfully to hide from the foreboding woman.

"None of that, Mr. Potter, it is your own fault you pushed yourself to the point of exhaustion, now you will have to face the consequences!" If anyone had known to look for it, they would have noticed a sparkle of pure warmth in the woman's eyes as she looked at her favorite patient, awake and seemingly as well as could be anticipated. "Miss Granger, I am told your presence is required on a second floor bedroom, something about puffskein nests." She waited until Hermione had left the room, pulling the door shut behind her before turning on her most recent patient, hands at her hips. "And you! I am going to give you the most thorough check-up of your entire life and you are going to tell me exactly what was going through your head when you decided not to tell me how those dreadful muggles treated you. _Then_," Harry winced, "the headmaster wishes to speak to you and your bondmate. _If_ there is anything left of you after I'm through!"

Harry was almost thankful for the distraction of the mediwitch's examination, as he wasn't terribly eager to analyze the way he had reacted to Charlie being referred to as his bondmate.

XxXxXxXxX

The sight of Harry sitting up in bed, color returned to his face, was enough to drain all the pent up tension from Charlie's shoulders. He still felt guilty for losing his temper earlier and getting banned from staying with Harry. He had quietly brooded all day after not being allowed to be present when Harry woke. Then again, he wasn't at all convinced that he was even the one Harry would want by his side when he regained consciousness anyway. Still, he had nearly punched a hole through the wall when he heard that the young man was awake and he still could not go and check on him. It had actually been a relief when Dumbledore had found him and asked Charlie to accompany him to Harry's room, despite his anxiety over the upcoming conversation. The one bright side of the day had been that his mother had yet to corner him, thanks in large part to Sirius and the twins' interference.

Dumbledore once again conjured chairs next to Harry's bed and Charlie entered the room behind him, pulling the door shut as the faint sound of his parents arguing drifted up the hall. They had been doing a lot of that today, and Charlie knew that he wasn't the only Weasley child feeling extremely uneasy about their usually inseparable parents' near constant bickering.

"Harry, Poppy tells me you are well on your way to a proper recovery; I am so relieved." Charlie knew that the younger man must surely still be feeling reservations about the headmaster's motives, but he was proud to see that Harry merely nodded, no animosity showing in his expression. "If you are feeling up to it, I wanted to discuss your living situation for the remainder of the summer." This time Harry stiffened visibly and Charlie shot a sharp look to the headmaster. Surely he was not planning on sending Harry back to his relatives'?

As though hearing Charlie's thoughts, Dumbledore hastened to clarify.

"After the dementor attack, it is clear that Privet Drive is no longer an option. It seems, though I have not been given details, that it has not been a safe option for some time." He watched Harry sadly over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. "I only wish you would have come to me, my boy."

"With all due respect, sir," Harry said cautiously, obviously choosing his words with care. "I… didn't really think you wanted to know." Charlie watched the headmaster's reaction, and wondered if Harry had noticed the devastated flinch before the calm mask came down and the old wizard answered.

"How did you come to that conclusion, Harry?"

"I've told you before that I didn't want to go back to the Dursleys', that they were horrible. You would ask if they ever hit me, and then tell me I just needed to try and see the good in people."

"Yes, and if you told me that they were hurting you I would have removed you at once, or at least taken measures to prevent it from happening again." Harry bit his lips, clearly wanting to argue with Dumbledore's words. "What is it Harry?"

"You were always so specific, always asking if my aunt or uncle had physically harmed me. But it was Dudley that beat me, and my aunt and uncle who starved me and locked me up and… I thought…" Albus had paled and his eyes had gone dull and blank as Harry rambled on, rubbing a shaking hand over his face as the boy trailed off.

"You thought I knew," he whispered, sounding for all the world like he had just had his heart ripped out.

"You usually know everything…" Harry whispered back guiltily, unable to meet the wounded look in his mentor's eyes. For once, Dumbledore was at a loss for words. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I—"

"_I_ placed you in their care, Harry. I never checked up on you. I told myself it would be better for you to grow up away from the fame and the pressure, but I honestly don't know if I could have left you there if I stayed a part of your life, watching you grow up…" He sighed tiredly. "You tried to tell me what was happening, and I brushed it off. I have failed you." Harry, not knowing how to respond to this, chose to say nothing and simply stare down at where his hands folded together. His fingers were beginning to blotch white and purple from the tightness of his grip.

Charlie felt a pang in his heart as he watched the conversation unfold. He sighed, running his hands messily through his hair and feeling dreadfully out of his league.

"I think, right now, we need to focus on Harry being out of that situation. For good," he added for safe measure, looking pointedly at Dumbledore as he did so. "Sir, you said you wanted to talk about arrangements for the rest of the summer. Maybe we should start…?" The headmaster smiled gratefully at him, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Quite right, Charlie, thank you." He took a moment longer to collect his thoughts, then turned to Harry and continued in an impressively cool and collected fashion. "Thanks to the Ministry's… surprise change of heart, you are no longer a wanted man. And as you are bonded now, Charlie, as your guardian, ultimately has the power to decide where you spend the rest of your summer. However, I must urge you to stay in the safety of headquarters. Ron and Hermione will be here with you, Fred and George as well, and Sirius of course. Nevertheless, I cannot legally stop you from leaving." Harry's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Um… where else would I go?" Dumbledore watched him closely for a few moments before he continued.

"To Romania, perhaps." The pronouncement hung thickly in the air between them, and neither Harry nor Charlie knew quite how to answer. "I take it the two of you have not quite had the chance to discuss your plans?" They both shook their heads slowly, Harry blushing brightly as he did. "Well… I believe you have much to talk about then. You can let me know what you are thinking tomorrow." With this, Dumbledore stood and swept out of the room, leaving two speechless young men in his wake.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie stared at the open door in bewilderment after the headmaster left. His mind was racing as he searched for something, anything, to say now. He looked at Harry and saw that he was staring down at the bedspread as though it was the most fascinating object he had ever laid eyes on. The only outward sign of his discomfort was the bright red tips of his ears. Charlie had no idea how he was supposed to start this conversation, and if he was being honest with himself, he would feel much more comfortable pacing about the room than fidgeting uneasily in this chair. Just like that, he had an idea that he realized he should have come up with from the start.

"You strong enough to move around a bit? You've been cooped up in here all day, I thought you might want to stretch your legs." The look of delighted surprise that lit up Harry's face was enough to make Charlie's heart flutter, though he no doubt would have chosen to describe the sensation in far more manly terms.

"Yes! Char, you're bloody fantastic, _thank_ you." Charlie was startled that someone besides Bill had used the nickname without it bothering him, but he was quickly learning that very little went as expected where Harry was concerned.

"Here, hang on." He jumped up to help the boy sit up fully and swing his legs over the side of the bed, then placed a steadying arm around his shoulders in support as Harry gripped the bedpost and stood shakily.

"You think Hedwig is doing okay? She shouldn't have flown all the way to Romania, Sirius said she wasn't well enough for long flights yet." Charlie smiled at Harry's anxious nattering, wondering how the boy could go from eager escapee to mother hen in a matter of seconds.

"I am sure she's alright Harry. We checked her over before we left, and laid out plenty of food and water for her. Besides," he squeezed the boy's shoulder playfully, "I get the impression she is nearly as stubborn as her owner." Harry laughed and allowed himself to be steered into the hallway. There, he adjusted himself so that he had only a loose grip on Charlie's upper arm and was otherwise moving on his own, albeit a little slower than usual.

"So how have people been taking the news of our bonding?" Charlie glanced at the younger man after the mumbled question, but Harry was staring determinedly down at his feet as they walked.

"I… wouldn't really know. I was sitting with you until the argument earlier, and since then I've mostly been hiding out. Fred, George, and Sirius have been covering for me all day. But," he stepped a touch to the side, shielding Harry ever so slightly with his own body and pulling him to a stop. "I guess we are about to find out how mum's adjusting." Harry shot him a confused look, then followed his gaze up the hallway in front of them to where Mrs. Weasley stood, hands on her hips and a look of icy fury in her eyes.

"Oh bugger," he whispered, holding tighter onto Charlie's arm.

"Harry dear, why don't you go back to bed, you should be resting."

"I've been resting all day Mrs. Weasley, Charlie was just helping me stretch my legs a little." The man in question looked at Harry in surprise, not only because he had not jumped at the chance to escape the shouting match that was surely impending, but also at the steely tone that laced through his soft words.

"Then go back to your room and I'll send Ron up to walk around with you in a bit." Her smile remained, but her words were much more clipped and stiff this time.

"That's alright, I'd rather stay with Charlie." Now it was Harry who took a protective step in front of his bondmate, and the polite charade of cordiality had all but disappeared from his voice. Whether it was his tone or the fact that he had physically placed himself between her and her son, Molly seemed to have reached her final straw.

"Harry, this doesn't concern you!"

"If you are going to yell at him for bonding with me, than I think it concerns me a great deal!" Charlie could visibly see his mother's temper rising out of the corner of his eye, but it was the subtle way Harry's voice wavered from strain as he argued that had Charlie stepping in, not wanting to risk the younger man's health taking another dive just because his mother wanted to vent her anger.

"Mum, I understand you're upset, but—"

"_Upset_?" Charlie actually stepped back at the loathing that all but slapped him at his mother's hissed response. "Upset was when you abandoned your family to run off and play with dragons. Upset was when you embarrassed your father and I in front of the entire Order through your disrespect for Dumbledore. Oh no, this is far beyond upset. How _dare_ you pressure Harry into doing this?"

"He didn't pressure me into anything!" Harry sounded equal parts furious and perplexed, as though he couldn't understand how Mrs. Weasley could be acting so unreasonably. Molly simply ignored him and continued speaking to Charlie.

"Don't think I didn't realize you were… _that way_. A mother always knows." Charlie was speechless, fear freezing him in place. Luckily for him, though, Harry did not seem to be having the same problem.

"Charlie bonded because of me. _I_ lost control of my magic, _I_ showed up at the reserve, _I_ told him I wouldn't bond with Ginny. If you need to yell, yell at me." If anything, Mrs. Weasley ignored him even more than she had been already, looking over the shorter boy's head to begin shouting at her son in earnest.

"YOU CHOSE THIS UNNATURAL PATH AND NOW YOU'VE DRAGGED FRED AND GEORGE ALONG AFTER YOU; I WON'T STAND BY AND ALLOW YOU TO CORRUPT HARRY AS WELL!"

"CHARLIE'S NOT THE GAY ONE, I AM!" There was a gasp behind them, and Harry spun around to see Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Hermione standing at the top of the staircase.


	21. Chapter 21

~ Chapter Twenty-One ~

"_CHARLIE'S NOT THE GAY ONE, I AM!"_

"No you're not." No one moved or said anything for several painfully long moments after Ron spoke. His voice was disturbingly emotionless.

"Ron, just calm do—"

"No Hermione, I would know if my own best mate was a—a poof!" He laughed after this assertion, but there was no humor in it. Rather, it was a harsh, almost hysterical sound. "Tell her Harry." There was no immediate answer, and suddenly Ron had taken the three long strides necessary to put him face to face with Harry, betrayal written across his face. "TELL HER!"

"I'm gay," he whispered in response, staring at the red-head as though transfixed. He watched in horrid fascination as Ron's face twisted in disgust.

"And you never thought to mention that before now!" Harry heard the snarl in Ron's voice, but didn't notice as the other boy's hand fisted and his arm drew back. Without warning, Harry felt strong arms clamp down around him and his stomach lurched as he was hauled to the side, a sickening _crack_ sounding next to him as Ron's fist connected with Charlie's jaw where the older man had suddenly pulled Harry safely out of the way, placing himself in the line of fire in the process.

"What the _hell_ is going on here!" Bill's voice thundered over the shocked cries of the others, silencing the room once again as he stormed past the crowd at the top of the stairs to haul Ron away from Harry and Charlie by the back of his robes, holding him up high enough that the boy had to balance precariously on his toes. Ron, for his part, was staring down at his hand in horror, as though just now realizing what he had done. A small smear of blood across his knuckles was evidence of where he had split Charlie's lip open. "Start talking," Bill demanded dangerously, giving Ron a small shake to make sure he had his attention.

"He-he said he was g-g-gay," Ron stammered, still apparently in a state of shock. Bill's angry glare was slowly replaced by a look of mournful disappointment.

"So you _hit him_? Ron, I have never been more let down in my entire life. Nothing at all has changed, except that now you know he fancies blokes. Who in Merlin's name cares? He's the same person! He's still your brother!" Unfortunately, Bill missed the confused looks that this last statement prompted, and he plowed on. "Charlie told me years ago that he was gay, and it never made him act any differently than it always has, did it?"

Harry, by this time, had struggled out of Charlie's arms in order to inspect the injuries his bondmate had received in his place. Charlie watched how his eyes grew round and wide at Bill's words, but other than that there was no reaction, Harry choosing instead to continue inspecting the wounds, batting Charlie's hands aside impatiently each time he reached up to touch his face.

"Charlie never said he was gay…" Fred began cautiously from the other side of the hall.

"…Harry did," George finished, both twins looking between Charlie and Bill with guarded expressions. Charlie's orientation was no longer news to them, but they knew that hardly meant their brother had been ready to be outed to everyone else. Bill's head snapped up at them in shock, before he whipped his face around to look at Charlie, apology bright in his eyes. Apology rapidly turned to alarm, however, when the small hands gently cradling his littler brother's face began to glow, and the swelling in Charlie's lip eased down to a normal size.

"Harry, you're not supposed to be doing magic!" Charlie seemed to be just realizing what was happening himself and tried to pull back from the smaller boy, but Harry just held on tighter, eyes squeezing shut in concentration. Charlie stared at the young man in awe as he felt his lip seal back together and the fiery throbbing in his jaw eased away. Almost as soon as the last of the pain had ebbed away, the fingers on his face slipped off and Charlie lunged forward to catch Harry in his arms as his knees buckled.

"How did you do that?" He asked in wonder, too impressed to chastise the boy once he saw that Harry was more or less alright.

"You protected me when Ron tried to hit me. I just thought of that and of how I needed to protect you back and I looked at where you were hurt and—I just wanted you healed. I wanted it _really_ badly."

"I'm going to pick you up Harry, don't be alarmed," he murmured for the other boy's ears alone, choosing not to examine his reaction to the other wizard's explanation too carefully. After a small hum of acknowledgement from the exhausted young man, Charlie stooped over and hooked an arm under Harry's knees, the other looped behind his shoulders before he carefully stood, pulling Harry up in his arms as he went.

"I am taking my bondmate back to Romania with me. Headquarters obviously isn't safe or healthy for him at the moment. _If_ he wishes to return once his health is restored, I will bring him back then."

"You can't take him!" Molly argued, finally regaining her voice. It didn't carry nearly as much authority as it normally did, however, and Charlie merely turned slowly to her and all but growled,

"Watch me." He turned on his heal and marched down the stairs, only pausing for a moment to lean over and whisper something to the twins. Harry was glad that Charlie was so completely focused on his mission of removing Harry from Grimmauld Place, as it meant that he missed the tired smile being hidden against the red-head's broad chest.

XxXxXxXxX

Sirius growled in frustration as he dug through the pile of parchments spread out on the floor in front of him once more. He swept his hair distractedly out of his face, not noticing as a long streak of black ink was drawn across his face from the quill he held in the same hand. Lupin noticed, however, and chuckled from where he was propped up on a mountain of pillows on his friend's bed, resting after his full-moon transformation the night before. He carefully covered up the snicker with a slight cough, surreptitiously flicking his wand towards Black's face to remove the mark as he had several times that day already.

"Moony, why is this all so bloody complicated? I don't remember all this crap when I became legal head of the House of Black."

"Well if you remember, Padfoot, you were seventeen and spent more of your time trying to get yourself disowned than learn to run your family. Your mother had been running things for three years since your father's death, waiting for you to come of age, and really she just kept on running things after that except on paper. Dumbledore became legal caretaker when your mother passed away a few months after you were sent to Azkaban, and as you are still an outlaw in the eyes of the Ministry, you have no legal claim on any of it to this day. It's no wonder you have no memory of all the legalities involved in the power transfer." Sirius scowled at his friend.

"Rhetorical question, you bloody werewolf. Look it up." Remus simply grinned and settled more comfortably into his pillows.

"Do Harry and Charlie realize what they're in for politically now that Dumbledore can no longer stand in as temporary estate holder? They now legally hold all command and responsibility of both the Potter and Black lines."

"How can they? I didn't even realize it. If I am reading all of this correctly, they are going to have politicians clamoring for their family votes on every last proposal pushed through to the Wizengamont, and probably a few of the larger ones even before that stage. No one pestered Dumbledore too much when he was making the decisions, I'm sure, but two young kids who have no idea how any of it works… Damn it, I just want to go check on Harry! Shouldn't there be some sort of manual for these things?" Black moaned piteously and tossed his quill aside in frustration.

"Here, give me the paperwork Albus brought over on the Potter holdings." Black's face lit up and Lupin rolled his eyes at the childlike expression.

"Really? You'll help? Oh Moony, I could just kiss you!"

"I thought we established in fifth year that my preferences lay elsewhere," Lupin answered mildly, one bushy eyebrow raising delicately as he smirked at his friend. Black shuddered at the implied memory.

"Ugh, and I will never get the image of you and Marlene McKinnon going at it in the restricted section out of my head, thank you very much."

"Oh, like I enjoyed walking in on you and Caradoc Dearborn after the Quidditch final sixth year. James about murdered you when he found out you had done it on his bed!"

"We were drunk! I thought it was my bed, I swear." Black tried to look apologetic, but the mischief in his eyes gave him away. "Ah, shy little 'Doc Dearborn. Never looked at me without blushing after that day, I somehow doubt he ever would have slept with a man had he not been plied by such vast amounts of firewhisky first, but mmmm, was he ever an _experience_." Sirius licked his lips at the memory and Lupin threw a pillow at his head while he shuddered in mock horror.

"Spare me the details, I beg of you." The two maurauders shared a laugh, but all too soon Remus felt the smile fading from his lips. "So you really bonded Harry," he whispered quietly, though it didn't quite sound like a question. Black's face fell and his shoulders drooped from guilt.

"I didn't know how else to help him. If it wasn't for that stupid life debt… Merlin, what had I been thinking sending Snape down that tunnel…" Lupin didn't say anything, the incident having always been a point of tension between them even years after the fact. "Even before Harry was born I was letting him down. James and Lily should have kept you as godfather," he said brokenly, finally admitting his thoughts to his old friend.

"That's not true. You love Harry more than life itself Sirius, and you always have. You were an idiot in school, Merlin knows I won't argue with you about that, but Harry's birth was damn near a miracle with how much you shaped up from the day he became your godson. Even now, faced with a seemingly impossible situation, you managed to find a way to protect Harry from the worst of it. I would have caved in to Albus if I were in your shoes. I'm not proud of it, but I know it's true." Black looked ready to argue, but a knock on the door cut him off.

"Come in." He stood quickly seeing the troubled faces of Fred and George as they slipped into his room, pulling the door shut behind him. "What's wrong?"

"We need to ask you something…"

"…it's kind of personal…"

"…but we need an answer…"

"…an _honest_ answer…"

"…before we tell you anything else." Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed near Remus, both men watching the red-heads curiously.

"Alright, what's the question?"

"How do you feel about… gay wizards?" Sirius blinked a few times, then smiled gently.

"I'm quite a fan." He smiled wider at their confused looks, and Remus laughed beside him before cutting in.

"He certainly is… I imagine most gay wizards are 'quite a fan' of other gay wizards, though." Fred and George's eye's widened slightly and then they both came and sat on the floor in front of the bed, George shaking his head in wonder.

"Blimey, is _everyone_ gay all of a sudden?"

"I guess your godson gets it from you then," Fred added, and suddenly Black and Lupin were both sitting bolt upright.

"Harry told you he was gay?" Sirius asked quickly.

"Told half the bloody house, actually…" George began, and then he and Fred took turns sharing what they had heard of the conversation between Harry, Charlie, and Molly, and then Ron and Bill's contributions. Sirius had leapt to his feet to run out of the room and search out his godson at one point, but had reluctantly stayed after the twins told him that Charlie had taken Harry to Romania with him.

"I suppose that's the best place for him at the moment," Sirius admitted tiredly, not sounding at all pleased about the assessment. "I guess it's better for them that they can get this all out in the open now though, I had wondered how long it would take them to admit to it."

"You _knew_, and you didn't say anything?" Lupin asked, turning to his friend incredulously.

"I…suspected. Neither of them said anything though, so it wasn't really my place."

"You turn into a werewolf for _one night_ and suddenly you've missed all the action," Remus said, pouting back into the pillows most uncharacteristically.

"Do you think…" Fred began uncertainly.

"…that Harry and Charlie…"

"…like each other?"

"Like, _like_ each other?" They finished together. Sirius smirked at them and slowly the look shifted over to the rest of the men in the room as well.

"Oh, things just got so much more interesting," Lupin said through his grin.

"I know that look; reckon it's time for some good old-fashioned maurauder mischief, Moony?" Sirius asked, lighting up with excitement.

"Funny you should ask, Padfoot…"

"_You're the Maruauders?!_"

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie only set Harry down when absolutely necessary the entire trip back to the reserve. When he did, he kept his arms supportively around the smaller boy's shoulders, whether they were stepping through a floo or jumping between apparition points. It wasn't until they appeared at the edge of the wards that Charlie actually separated himself fully from the young man in order to charm the wards to let him enter with a guest. A faint glowing appeared, and Charlie took Harry's elbow and gently pulled him through, before gathering the boy in his arms and apparating them one last time so they now stood in the middle of his small cabin.

Somewhere in the back of Charlie's mind he knew that he was being over-protective, but watching Harry fight so fiercely, for _Charlie_, had melted the very last of his barriers away. No one willingly placed themselves between Molly Weasley and her target when she had herself wound up for a good shouting match. Harry had, though, and the brave little Gryffindor had even outed himself, however unintentionally, all while trying to defend Charlie.

When he had seen that Ron was about to hit Harry, he had jumped to protect the young man without even pausing to think first. His gut had twisted funny, feeling the sharp crack and warm flow of blood left by his own brother, but he was almost too busy feeling relieved that Harry hadn't been hurt to really dwell on it.

Charlie didn't have the words to describe how he was feeling. Neither wizard had spoken during the trip back to Romania, Charlie sure that the younger man was just as distracted by the day's revelations as he was. What did it mean now that he knew Harry shared his preferences? What _could_ it mean? Just because the boy was gay did not mean he had any feelings for Charlie, and besides; Harry was only fourteen. Charlie shouldn't be trying to tie him down, he should be helping him discover his own sexuality and choose his own partner. The thought of Harry with anyone else physically hurt, but he felt in his heart that it was right.

He felt Harry shiver slightly in his arms as the adrenaline finally wore off, and he suddenly felt slightly embarrassed by his actions over the last hour.

"Merlin Harry, I'm sorry. I asked you to bond with me so that I could stop people from making decisions about your life for you, and now I am doing the exact same thing."

"I would have told you if I didn't want to leave. I'm actually really glad you got me away from there… thank you."

"I know what we have isn't exactly a typical bond, but I am here for you if you need me. Or, you know, if you ever want to talk… about things…" Charlie rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and Harry blushed brightly, knowing the red-head was referring to his emotional announcement.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before we bonded, I know I should have." Charlie couldn't help but smile at Harry's guilty admission.

"Not any more than I should have, Harry. You weren't the only one who came out today, remember?" He had to work very hard to ignore the strong stirrings of interest he felt when Harry peeked up at him through his long bangs, before tipping his head down once more, cheeks blushing even brighter due to his bashfulness.

"So you really are gay then?"

"As a rainbow," he answered confidently, and was glad to see Harry flash a bright smile in return. Here it was so much easier to feel sure of whom he was. After coming out explosively to Bill years before, he had slowly begun sharing his secret with first şef and then other dragon tamers on the reserve. By now, Charlie was comfortably out at work and even had a group of friends who would switch off going to straight and gay muggle clubs with him on their nights off.

While Charlie was reminiscing, Harry was lost in his own musings. Charlie was gay. Charlie had married him, a man, and he didn't seem at all upset that Harry was gay as well and hadn't told him. Charlie had called him 'my bondmate' back at headquarters, and then literally carried Harry away from the pressure and judgment of their friends and family. Harry knew that he had nothing to offer Charlie romantically; he was just a kid with a propensity for near death experiences. Maybe, though, he and Charlie had a chance at building a family together, however strange that family may be.

Charlie saw Harry biting his lip nervously out of the corner of his eye and realized that they had been standing in silence for several moments. He quickly pulled himself from his thoughts and focused back on the young man in front of him.

"Right, if you're going to be staying here we need to introduce you to şef and possibly link your magical signature into the wards so you would be able to get in without me if you needed to. Bill's linked in, as he's my emergency contact person. It's unusual for handlers to link in more than one person besides themselves, but as you're my bondmate and not yet seventeen, this isn't exactly a usual situation."

"Şef?" Harry asked, trying to desperately not to appear as clueless as he felt. Charlie though just smiled.

"Sorry, my bad; I need to slow down. Petru Mateche is the one in charge of the reserve. Most people call him şef, it's a sign of respect. The ward around the reserve only allows a witch or wizard to enter if they are linked into the wards, arrive via an emergency portkey forged within the wards, or are brought in as a guest, as you were earlier. The problem with either of those last two, is that the second you step foot past the wards you are trapped on the outside. Dragon taming isn't exactly the safest occupation, so everyone has to designate an emergency contact person. They are given the coordinates of the reserve and linked in. That way, if something happens, they can get here and make emergency medical decisions. This is almost always a close family member or, if the tamer is bonded, their bondmate. We're bonded, so the natural course of action would be to take Charlie off and put you in. Since you're not of age yet, though, you can't actually make medical decisions for either of us. That's why I'm hoping şef will make an exception and link you in."

"You're going to tell your boss we're bondmates?" Harry sounded equal parts impressed and terrified, and Charlie couldn't help but chuckle.

"When you live and work with the same small group of people in an extremely dangerous atmosphere like this, there isn't really room for lies and secrets. We put our lives in each other's hands all the time; when I say I trust these guys, I literally mean with my life." Harry thought this over for a few minutes, then squared his shoulders and nodded.

"Alright, let's go talk to him then." Charlie hesitated, knowing that Harry was still a little weak after yet another feat of wandless magic. He seemed determined, though, and it really did need to get taken care of as soon as possible.

"I'm trusting you to tell me if you get too tired and need lie down. Don't you dare pass out on me again, Potter." His tone was serious, but his eyes were playful, and Harry took it as the concern it was rather than a threat of any kind.

"I will." Charlie searched his eyes for any sign that he was on the verge of collapse, then finally nodded in acceptance and led Harry out the front door. He froze abruptly seeing Norbert not ten feet away from the hut, old instincts kicking in, but after only a momentary hesitation he continued walking past the dragon.

Charlie suddenly became aware of emotions that did not seem to fit his current state. There was the sense that something pleasantly unexpected had just happened, followed by concern, and then a hint of indulgence. He was about to tell Harry he thought he may be feeling unwell when he realized the other man's footsteps had grown still behind him and Harry's voice drifted towards him.

"What is it Norbert? Didn't expect to see me back so soon? No, I don't think that's all it is, huh buddy. Merlin, I've always been able to feel your magic, but never like this. It feels like if I just looked hard enough and long enough I could actually _see_ the magic radiating off of you. I wonder if that has to do with getting my full powers. Everything feels different since then, more alive… I probably sound daft, don't I?" Charlie turned slowly, watching as his bondmate ran his hands lovingly down Norbert's neck as he spoke. He took a deep breath, trying to relax and clear his mind. As he did, the emotions grew stronger and he realized in astonishment that what he was feeling could fit between Harry's words like missing puzzle pieces to his conversation with the young dragon.

"Harry, what… what's going on?" Harry's head snapped up at the timid quality to Charlie's voice, and he gasped just as a brush of something smug touched his mind.

"You can feel it now too!" It wasn't a question, so Charlie didn't try to answer.

"This is what you meant, when you said you could sense emotions… ideas… this is what you were talking about?" Harry nodded, looking between Norbert and Charlie as a sense of patience slipped in to mix with the growing hauteur.

"But you said Norbert has always been strange, so it's not a big deal if…" he trailed off at Charlie's guilty grimace and the flutter of annoyance that joined the previous emotions. "…It has nothing to do with Norbert, does it?"

"I doubt it," Charlie admitted softly.

"So then—" He stopped suddenly, Norbert having risen to his feet and nudged Harry ahead with his snout. Harry allowed himself to be guided forward until he was right in front of Charlie. Then there was a scaly wing lifting his wand hand, and Charlie mirrored his gasp at the warm flutter of pure power that brushed his skin where it made contact with the smooth scales. Norbert was doing the same to Charlie with his other wing, and suddenly their wand hands bumped together, palms coming to rest against each other.

"The bond," both men whispered, looking up into each other's eyes. Charlie shook himself out of the moment a minute later.

"Life is never boring with you, is it?"


	22. Chapter 22

~ Chapter Twenty-Two ~

"_So let me get this straight: First you gave an emergency portkey to an outsider, without authorization. Then, they used it to send someone else onto the reserve, with no warning. You leave, come back, and leave with him" he jerked his head in Harry's direction "again, all without checking with me. And now you are both back, once again unauthorized, I might add, to tell me you have bonded to a minor and need him linked into the wards. Have I left anything out?" Petru growled, glaring at the red-headed dragon tamer in front of him._

"_Well there's also the bizarre way all the dragons have been acting and the fact that Harry and I can both apparently sense their feelings or some shit now, but if you want to leave that part out and yell at me for it another time, I'm okay with that," Charlie dead-panned cheekily, and Harry was amused, as well as vaguely shocked, to see the gray-haired man's mouth quirk up in an unbidden grin. _

_Petru Mateche was not at all what Harry would have imagined the leader of a group of dragon tamers to look like. It wasn't necessarily his gray-white hair or his wrinkled face, but more the fact that he appeared so… gentle. His body was lean, but certainly not anything approaching muscular, and his eyes crinkled in the corners in a way that made Harry feel sure that the man smiled more often than not. His movement was slow but graceful, so much so that Harry rather thought the word 'elegant' would make an apt description. He had on worn khaki pants and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He seemed so at odds with the glimpses Harry had caught of other tamers as they walked through the reserve; tan, built, tattooed and pierced, most sporting some combination of ripped jeans and snug tank-tops or t-shirts. Still, Harry couldn't help but feel nervous as he stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Charlie and spoke up for the first time since they had reached Petru's office._

"_Actually, sir, there is one more thing; we were wondering if it would be at all possible for me to stay here with Charlie for a little while, until things calm down back… where I am staying." Charlie watched his boss as Harry spoke, noting the look of discomfort at being addressed as 'sir' as well as the way his eyes softened when Harry clearly tripped over his words, unable to claim that he really had a 'home' to go back to. If that wasn't a winning argument, Charlie didn't know what was. He had yet to meet a dragon tamer who wasn't a softie at heart, and Petru more than any other had always been drawn to those who were damaged and misunderstood. It hadn't been coincidence, after all, that he had taken Charlie under his wing and mentored him personally when he had first come to the reserve._

It had been nearly a week since Harry had taken up residence on the reserve, and Charlie had all but forgotten what it was like before the lively young man was there. Petru had tried at first to insist that Harry have no contact with the dragons unless he went through proper training. When Norbert had heard Harry arguing and figured out what was going, he had responded by sticking his head in through the open window of the office and huffing his annoyance in such a way that the edges of several parchments were singed. In the end, they had compromised on Harry staying away from all the dragons _except_ Norbert.

This had proven to be a good thing, as Charlie had found that while he could sense emotions from the others as well, only Norbert seemed to be able to understand what was being said to him. Petru had asked both Harry and Charlie to keep their strange new abilities under wraps until the three of them had figured out what was going on. Charlie had kept his promise and not said a word, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from 'listening in' on the emotions of the dragons he had worked with this week. He had gotten a few strange looks after announcing things like, "Don't raise your arms like that, it makes him nervous," or "No don't stun her, she's playing, not attacking!" Luckily, though, no one had any idea what had led to his newfound connection with the powerful reptiles.

While Charlie had been working, Harry had spent his time building up his strength and enjoying a few rare, carefree moments. To say the boy was flourishing on the reserve would be a vast understatement, Charlie felt. He spent his days writing to the twins through his journal, napping in the sun with Norbert, or flying through the air over the small row of huts on Charlie's old Cleansweep Seven, the little dragon joining him more often than not. In the typical easy-going way of dragon tamers, these sights had shocked the inhabitants of the reserve on Harry's first day, and had been considered commonplace by the second. After all, stories of Harry and Norbert had been told on the reserve for years, and if the tamers had learned anything over the past few weeks it was that dragons would always come with more questions than answers.

What had perhaps done the young man's spirit the most good, however, was being introduced to the group after Petru had linked him into the wards (mumbling about impulsive young men all the while).

"_Wait… you're Harry? _The_ Harry? I've heard about you!" Charlie had gritted his teeth and just barely resisted the urge to curse Pavel as he watched his bondmate's face pale while the younger man desperately tried to flatten his unruly bangs down over the scar on his forehead._

"_It is, I recognize him!" Another tamer called out, and Harry's eyes began to dart around in panic, as though searching for an escape route._

"_Yea, that's him! He's the one that was standing right next to Norbert and talking to him when we went to get him from Hogwarts!" Excited chatter suddenly broke out, and Charlie relaxed, smiling bemused as Harry was surrounded by dragon tamers eager to hear from the source itself how he had interacted with the little dragon. As he began to realize that none of the attention was due to his fame (although Charlie did notice several knowing glances at his forehead), Harry relaxed and was even smiling by the time Petru broke the group up to send them back to work._

"_Pleasure to meet you, Harry. I uh… hope to see you around. Soon." Harry smiled and shook Pavel's hand before he walked away, and Charlie's gut clenched at the hungry look in the man's eyes as he gave the raven-haired boy a once-over before leaving. When Harry just smiled in return, Charlie found himself biting down harder than necessary on his lower lip, wondering if Harry had recognized the look of interest as well; wondering how he could possibly have missed it. And if that smile was anything to go by, the interest wasn't one-sided._

Charlie scowled, not liking where his thoughts had turned. It was Thursday, and work was done for the evening. He was sitting outside, watching the sun slowly sink beyond the horizon as he leaned back against the side of his cabin, watching Harry a few dozen feet away as the boy sprawled out next to a napping Norbert, writing in his journal. He must have sensed Charlie's eyes on him, because he looked up and smiled before turning his attention back down to the journal, dark hair tumbling down around his face like a curtain. Charlie waited for the familiar flipping sensation in his stomach to settle, then picked up the first letter from the stack beside him.

They had been in Romania for four days, and Hedwig had finally been deemed healthy enough to fly off to headquarters the day before. She had returned a few hours ago while Charlie was with the dragons, and the red-head was a little annoyed that only Bill had dared to write to him directly rather than through his young bondmate (well, Bill and Molly, but according to the twins' journal, when Hedwig had shown up at Grimmauld Place the night before she had refused to take the Howler from Mrs. Weasley, and had left before the woman had a chance to write anything else).

Charlie held the stack of parchment the snowy owl had brought with her and bit his lip. He still felt strange about reading Harry's mail, but the boy had asked him to, saying it all concerned both of them and half of them had left postscripts or messages for Charlie anyway. He pulled the letter from the first opened envelope and saw Hermione's neat, even writing.

**Dear Harry,**

**How's Romania? Have you seen any dragons? Did you know that there are over 200 known uses for dragon blood, but only four of them work if the dragon was purposely harmed in order to get the blood?**

**Sorry, I know I'm rambling. I guess I'm not sure what to say. You know I love you dearly and that hardly changes just because you like wizards rather than witches. I won't make excuses for Ron, I know that's not my place I just… hope you two don't end your friendship so quickly. I think his feelings might be more complicated than you think, and I'm not even sure he knows how he feels about gay people and—drat, I'm doing it aren't I?**

**I miss you Harry. I want to hear all about the bonding ceremony and coming into your full powers and how your magic is settling. I hope you come back from Romania soon.**

**Yours truly,**

**Hermione Granger**

**(ps- I'm not sure if this is a question for you or Charlie, but… what happens when school starts again? Will Charlie just stay in Romania while you're at Hogwarts? Will people know you are bonded? I checked **_**Hogwarts, A History**_** but it doesn't say what the usual protocol is as far as I can tell.)**

Charlie shook his head. Trust Hermione to have done research not only dragons but on their personal situation as well. Her questions were valid, though; did anything change now that Harry was his bondmate? He would have to talk to Dumbledore about it. Joy. He set down Hermione's letter and pulled out the next one, flicking his eyes to the bottom to see that it was signed by Snuffles before he began to read the letter from Sirius.

**Hey Pup,**

**I can't believe you came out to the entire Weasley clan before you told your own godfather! Then again, I hadn't come out to you yet, so I doubt I have much of a leg to stand on in this argument. I told your dad you would turn out just like me, old bugger owes me ten sickles.**

**Your parents wouldn't have loved you any different, Harry. Remus says I should make sure to tell you that, in case you were wondering. All the marauders knew I fancied men, and none of them cared (except perhaps Pettigrew, but he was at least too scared to say otherwise). **

**I'm not going to try to talk you into coming back to stay, I want you happy more than anything, so go wherever makes you the happiest. I do need you to stop by sometime soon though, well you and Charlie that is. This probably won't mean much to you, growing up in the muggle world, but Charlie now holds your legal power to the Potter and Black lines and holdings. You tell him that, he'll understand the significance.**

**Take a couple extra days to sort things through, Harry, but come see me soon.**

**I love you.**

**-Snuffles-**

**(ps- Order sources from within the ministry say that Fudge was so furious about you getting off the hook that he punched a wall and broke a finger. Apparently he cried like a baby. You and Charlie are my heroes.)**

Charlie re-read the paragraph about family lines three times before setting the letter down with a shaking hand. The Black and Potter lines were both Old Families, and Charlie was sure that Harry would be the first non-pureblood to head either house. The amount of money alone now under their control (and it would be _their_ control, Charlie wasn't about to take over Harry's inheritance simply because the boy had a few years to go before he came of age) was mind boggling.

What really had him shaken, though, was the political significance. Laws were created, altered, and destroyed through votes by the Old Families. The Wizengamot carried them out, and those fifty wizards and witches were voted on and were usually highly intelligent and celebrated members of society. The High Council, though, was chosen by birth right. It had originated with the head of house of every magical family holding a seat. Over time, however, through marriages and alliances, powerful families began taking over additional seats. There were pureblood families who no longer held any votes in the High Council, while others held multiple. Arthur carried a vote for the Weasley family, but only because he had attained it through the Prewett line after marrying Molly. His mother's cousins Fabian and Gideon Prewett had been Order members and had died in the first wizarding war, ending the last of the male line. Their one remaining vote had shifted over to Arthur. Charlie could remember his father returning from High Council meetings fuming, going on about how his vote hardly did him any good against families like the Malfoys, who held the current record with eight votes. No other family line had yet risen above seven.

Charlie shoved the letter back into its envelope and pushed it away. He couldn't deal with it right now. He snatched at another letter at random and quickly unfolded it, beginning to read before he even realized who it was from.

**Harry—**

**I understand if you don't read this, but I guess Hedwig doesn't know you hate me because she wouldn't stop nipping at my fingers until you got a letter from me.**

**I'm sorry mate. I know I keep saying that, but it keeps being true. I don't care that you're gay. Well, I guess I'm still wrapping my head around the idea, but I'm not **_**mad**_** that you're gay. I just don't understand why you never told me. Fred and George didn't act surprised at all, and those two and Bill obviously knew about Charlie already and I just sorta saw red at being left out again. How I acted was rash and immature and juvenile (Hermione uses big words when she yells), and it's high time I started thinking a matter through before I acted on it (again, Hermione's words, but she's right as usual).**

**If you are reading this, even if you don't forgive me (which I completely understand, mate, I was prat), could you please tell Charlie I'm sorry? I've… never hit any of my brothers like that. Not real, not more than a playful scuffle with the twins.**

**Hey, I wanted to let you know that mum's mental, by the way. She keeps going on about Charlie and the twins brain-washing you and needing to rescue 'poor little Harry.' I don't reckon they had anything to do with it, and if that's how you feel then that's just who you are, and I can get on board with that. **

**One more thing… there's an Order meeting tomorrow, to talk about what changes now that you and Charlie are bonded. I heard mum and dad talking about it while I was hiding from Fred and George. They… aren't very happy with me right now. I don't know how much I can find out, but if I hear anything, I could write to you again maybe? I don't want to leave you in the dark a second time.**

**Sorry I'm such a moron.**

**-Ron **

Charlie scanned the letter through a second time. Ron had a temper, but he had never been the deceitful type. He had no doubt that his little brother's letter was absolutely sincere. He was also fairly certain that this was the most the little red-head had ever written at one time. Ron was right when he said that Harry had every right to be furious with his friend, but Charlie found himself hoping that his bondmate's forgiving nature won out and Ron got another chance.

There were only two letters left now, one more for Harry and the letter from Bill. Charlie set Bill's letter aside one more time and picked up the open envelope. He was surprised to see that it was from his father.

**Dear Harry,**

**I hope you don't mind me writing to you. I've already spoken to Charlie, and while I know you both had reasons for bonding other than Ginny's well-being, I wanted to thank you for protecting her. I know I could never replace your parents or Sirius, but I truly see you as another son, and I consider myself lucky to have been a part of your life even in a small way. Please don't think that my not wanting Ginny involved in this bonding was any reflection on you, she is just so young, and… she's my little girl. I want to see her happy.**

**I know Molly has had quite a lot to say about recent events, but you listen to me: You and Charlie are both brave, loving, persevering young men, and I am extremely proud of both of you. If I have any regrets about either of you being gay, it is only that it will be that much harder for you to find someone to love. I want to see all my children happy.**

**I hope you will feel comfortable coming to me if you ever need anything.**

**Take care my boy. Arthur.**

**(And Harry, remind Charlie that I love him.)**

Charlie was surprised at the weight he felt lifted from his shoulders. Yes, he and his father had talked, but about the bond; they hadn't spoken since he was outed. To have his father casually brush aside the revelation with the simple wish that they both found happiness somehow did more to show his support than any well-meaning speech of acceptance could ever have done. With a soft smile on his face, he picked up the last letter and tore open the envelope.

**Hey little brother,**

**I am so sorry. Talk about putting your foot in your mouth. If you want to hex me for it, let me know; I'll give you a free shot.**

**You know I don't give a rat's ass that you're gay. I haven't had the chance to talk to you since you got bonded, though. How are you holding up? Harry, too. I think I understand why you both did this. I talked to dad a bit about it, I hope you don't mind but he told me what you said to him and Dumbledore.**

**I have watched you become a responsible young man these past few years (don't worry, I won't tell Fred and George; it would break their little hearts). Even so, I doubt you really thought this through all the way, all the responsibilities that you are going to have now and all the decisions you will need to make. BUT, you should know that I believe in you 100%. **

**Let me know if you ever need anything.**

**Love,**

**Bill.**

**(Look, I know Ron was an idiot and I'm not going to tell you to forgive him if that's not how you feel. You should know, though, that no one's talking to him anymore, and the twins spend half their time trying to torture him. Just… keep it in mind.)**

The final bit had clearly been scrawled onto the end of the letter last minute, and Charlie could just imagine the look of uncertainty on Bill's face as he was once again stuck between standing up for one little brother and looking out for another. Charlie set the letter down and closed his eyes, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to ward off the stress headache he could feel settling in.

"You okay?" His eyes shot open hearing Harry's voice so close by, and he saw that the younger man was crouched down in front of him, watching him with concern. He sat up a little straighter and attempted a smile for Harry's benefit.

"Yeah, just a lot to think about. How are the twins?" He nodded towards the journal which Harry had been writing in until a few minutes before.

"Okay," he answered, moving to sit next to Charlie, both men leaning back against the wall of the cabin. "Sounds like Bill has been running interference between them and your mum pretty regularly, now that he moved back from Egypt, so I am sure that is helping." They were both quiet for a moment; neither had been happy to hear that Bill had been asked to give up Egypt to play spy for the Order in Gringotts.

"That's something I suppose."

"Mmm. I, uh, told the twins to lay off Ron. It sounds like they've been hassling him a lot." He hung his head so that his face was hidden by his bangs before continuing. "I don't know if I can forgive him, at least just yet, but I don't want him bullied either."

"I think that's great, Harry. What you did for him. No one can expect more from you than that." Harry smiled at him ironically, and Charlie rolled his eyes, half in annoyance half in amusement. "Well alright, no one _should_ expect more from you than that." Harry grinned fully now, and Charlie bumped shoulders with him good-naturedly.

"Did you know about the meeting today? The one to talk about us, or whatever?"

"No. I would have told you Harry."

"So now I'm not the only one being left in the dark." Charlie looked over at his bondmate, a feeling of defensive irritation growing in his chest. After everything that had happened already that summer, and the Order was still trying to dictate Harry's life for him.

"You're not going to be left in the dark. Neither of us is, not this time. Come on." Charlie rose to his feet with determination and held out a hand to pull Harry up as well.

"What are we doing?"

"Going to headquarters for the meeting," Charlie answered simply, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry didn't react for a few seconds, then his whole face lit up with a wide smile.

"Be right back!" He darted into the cabin, leaving a bemused red-head in his wake. When he returned a moment later, Hedwig flew out the door past him, a small bit of parchment clutched in her talons.

"What was that?"

"Note to Petru telling him we were leaving. I didn't want you getting yelled at again." Harry was rushing around putting things away as he spoke; Charlie's broom, the letters, he even stopped to hug Norbert goodbye, the little dragon sending of waves of amusement as he watched the energetic young man. Charlie felt his heart swell realizing that once again, Harry had been looking out for him. He doubted anything could bring him down in that moment. At least, until he heard Harry's next words as the boy hurried past him into the hut one last time.

"Oh, and Pavel stopped by right before you got back. He said to remind you that everyone was going out tomorrow night, and he said I was invited. I told him I'd come with, that's alright, isn't it?"

Charlie didn't notice Norbert's knowing snort as he scowled in response. Just what he needed, a horny young dragon tamer out clubbing with his bondmate. He dared anyone at headquarters to argue with him in the mood he was in now.


	23. Chapter 23

~ Chapter Twenty-Three ~

Sirius scowled as members of the Order continued filling the kitchen. He hadn't been told about the meeting until fifteen minutes prior when everyone began to assemble. He had tracked down the twins immediately to warn Harry through their journals, but they hadn't gotten a response when they wrote to tell him. Even Black's insistence that Charlie should be present at the very least had fallen on deaf ears.

Dumbledore appeared in the doorway and Sirius leapt to his feet.

"Albus, how can you keep doing this to Harry? Haven't you learned anything from the last four years of planning his life out for him?"

"I always try to learn from my mistakes, Sirius. No decisions will be made without Harry and Charlie's opinions taken into consideration."

"Oh really? Because I think that might prove a bit tricky seeing as neither of them are here to give their opinions!" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but he didn't try to disguise it.

"There is no reason to drag them here from Romania at this time, Sirius. No decisions will be made tonight at all, this meeting is purely to consider what obstacles we may face as a result of the bonding you so rashly cast, and brainstorm ways to counter it." It was rare for the headmaster to lose his temper, and had Sirius not been so wound up he may have treated the warning sign more seriously. As it was, the old wizard's words only served to fuel his own anger further.

"Obstacles _Harry_ might face. Obstacles _Charlie_ might face. This is not a 'we' scenario Albus!"

"No, it isn't. Once again, Harry will carry the burden of hardships which none of us can take off of his shoulders. He will face homophobia he could have avoided until he was ready for others to know his sexuality. He will face political decisions he has never been taught to make. He will face manipulations through the High Council that neither he nor Charlie are prepared for. So no, Sirius, Harry and Charlie are not here. They are in Romania, and Merlin willing they are resting and relaxing and finding a rare moment of peace and happiness before this all goes public and they are forced to face it. And I will be damned if I take that away from them! What I cannot understand is why you are so determined to stop me from protecting him!" The headmaster's eyes flashed dangerously as he towered over the animagus, and the entire kitchen had gone silent. In fact, the only sound heard in the house was the shrieking of Mrs. Black's portrait, having been set off by the yelling.

In the shock of Dumbledore's shouting, no one had noticed the two young men under discussion quietly entering headquarters and making their way towards the room of Order members. They had heard the entirety of the headmaster's tirade, but just barely made it to the kitchen door by the time he finished. In the silence that followed, Charlie felt Harry slip past him and watched curiously to see how his bondmate responded.

"You can't protect me, though. From any of that." The old wizard spun around in a flash at Harry's quiet words, his eyes suspiciously bright as he looked down at the young man in front of him.

Harry met his gaze calmly, and took a deep, bolstering breath before continuing in a confident tone.

"I know you care about me. You're infuriating at times, but an idiot could see how much you care. You have to stop trying to protect me from the world though. It's hypocritical, and frankly it's dangerous. Don't shelter me, _prepare_ me. My first year at school, you had suspicions about Quirrel, but you tried to shield me from the danger. Ron, Hermione, and I ended up down that awful corridor chasing after the Sorceror's Stone because no one had given me any reason to believe Snape wouldn't be after it. Professor Snape," he quickly corrected himself, noticing just then that the professor himself was off in one corner of the room and not in the mood for a row.

Harry took a step to the side and looked to where Hagrid stood, including him in his next words.

"My second year, when the chamber was opened, no one told me anything about the last time it had happened. I didn't know about Tom Riddle. If I had known your suspicions about Slytherin's heir, if I had understood the connection between Riddle and Voldemort, I could have given you the diary long before anyone was in any real danger. Ginny almost _died_," he looked back to where Charlie stood watching him, and added words that told the red-head more than Harry could possibly have known just how much the young man was changing. "We both nearly died."

Harry turned away and this time sought out his godfather's eyes.

"My third year, I was told a mass murderer had escaped Azkaban to come after me. Then I found out, by accident, that I was his godson. That he had been my parents' best friend, and had supposedly betrayed them." Harry scanned the faces of Order members until he found Remus. "We all know I don't regret that Sirius found me. But I had the grim following me around all year," he looked back to Dumbledore once more, "and I don't believe for a second that you would have done anything to harm him until you had questioned him under veritaserum. Maybe Peter wouldn't have escaped, maybe Sirius could be a free man right now, maybe not. But I wouldn't have had to fight off a hundred dementors at once while Hermione and I were running through the forbidden forest from a werewolf, and Ron wouldn't have had his leg nearly torn off." Both Black and Lupin grimaced in embarrassment, but no one seemed to be paying either man any attention.

Harry ran his hands through his messy hair, sighing heavily and beginning to pace before he continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that every eye in the room was riveted on him, and everyone was hanging onto his every word.

"Last year, my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Did you know there are three different shield spells that can stop the killing curse? Two of them can be cast to cover you and another person. I found that out in the library, when I couldn't sleep after…that night." Taking a chance, Harry spun around and met Snape's eyes. "The death eaters knew something was coming. I heard you talking to Karkaroff about it. Your marks were changing, you knew there was danger. If I had been trained and taught to defend myself instead of being dragged to press conferences and balls and those stupid tournament tasks, maybe I wouldn't have gotten Cedric killed or let Voldemort come back." He didn't notice that his voice had cracked or that a single tear had fallen and slid down his cheek. Dumbledore was watching him with a profound sadness, but it was surprisingly Mad-Eye who spoke first.

"What happened in that graveyard that night was _not your fault_, Potter. We will keep telling you that as long as it takes to get it through your thick skull." Albus put a hand on his old friend's shoulder to silence him, and finally spoke himself.

"You are right, my boy. You are an exceptionally difficult person to protect. Is that not all the more reason for us to keep trying any chance we get, then?"

"Headmaster, every time you try to protect me you end up leaving me wide open for some other catastrophe. Voldemort won't stop coming after me. Patting me on the head and telling me that everything is fine while you hide me away for the next few years… you'd be sending me off to my execution the day I turned seventeen." There were a few shocked gasps from around the room at the bold statement, and it seemed that Molly had reached the limit of her patience in holding back her own two cents on the subject.

"Harry, you are fourteen, you are just a boy! You—" Harry did not allow himself to become angry when he cut her off, but his voice was firm.

"And I am asking for help so that I can live long enough to become a man." Even Molly didn't have a comeback ready for that, and Dumbledore was smart enough to step in before she had the time to think of one.

"Then on that note, I believe it is high time we began this meeting."

XxXxXxXxX

Harry looked at the scrolls and parchments spread across the kitchen table, then at Sirius, Remus, Arthur, and Charlie who were sitting with him, then back at the scrolls and parchments before throwing his head back with loud, anguished groan. He had thought the meeting earlier had been overwhelming, but that had focused more on what kind of action the Ministry and the School Board could possibly take against Harry to try and discredit and manipulate him once they learned of the bond. Now, Arthur was talking about the High Council while Remus went through lists of Gringotts vaults and estates and Sirius talked about wards and inheritance. Probably the only thing holding him together right now was Charlie's soothing hand as it rubbed absent-mindedly over his bondmate's back, and the fact that the red-head had remained relatively calm through everything.

"So why can't Sirius just stay as head of the House of Black? And why can't Dumbledore keep making decisions for the Potters? Why does that change now that I'm bonded?" Black tried to stay patient as Harry asked the question for at least the second time.

"Even though I was legally deemed an outlaw by the Ministry, I maintained my status in the absence of a suitable heir. Dumbledore had control of my holdings and power, but it was still considered mine. As soon as the next heir becomes legally eligible, or in your case bonds to a guardian who is then legally eligible in your place, the title goes down to you and the family line will no longer respond to a caretaker, so Dumbledore has no hold on any Potter or Black line assets."

"Well I don't need any of this. Can't I just pass my votes off to someone else on the High Council and donate my money? The one vault I already had access to from my parents alone is more money than I ever imagined I'd have, I certainly don't need eleven of them!"

"Harry," Arthur spoke up, his demeanor as calm and collected as ever, "I understand that this is a lot of extra responsibility on your shoulders. I want to make sure you understand the kinds of decisions your votes impact, though, before you try to give them away. The High Council writes all wizarding laws. They also amend and repeal them. Do you know what laws Dumbledore puts up for repeal vote every year, without fail? Werewolf restrictions. Pureblood clauses on Wizengamont memberships. Laws forbidding muggle-born witches and wizards from being informed of their magical status prior to their eleventh birthdays." Harry ran a hand over his face as the impact of Mr. Weasley's words began to sink in.

"Okay, alright I agree, that's all really important. But if Dumbledore puts those things up for vote every year and it hasn't changed yet, what difference will it make if I am the one holding the votes?"

"You're Harry Potter," Lupin answered immediately, a grimly ironic smile on his face. "You're the-boy-who-lived." His grin softened at Harry's grimace. "I know you hate the attention Harry, but it's never going to go away. Have you ever thought about trying to use it to your advantage? Imagine the influence you could have on our world."

"Great, no pressure." Harry was grateful that no one called him out on his childish remark. He knew he was being immature; after all, he was the one who wanted to be kept informed rather than be shielded from the truth. Still, he hoped a short moment of self-pity was still acceptable.

"You're not in this alone, Harry. We can figure all of it out together." Charlie smiled, and was relieved when the younger man returned the expression.

"Okay. But we're going to need some extra help."

XxXxXxXxX

To describe the atmosphere in the library as 'tense' would have been a vast understatement. Ron sat in one corner, uncharacteristically subdued. Fred and George pointedly shared an armchair in the opposite corner of the room, as far from Ron as they could get. Hermione had predictably made a beeline for the table where Sirius and Remus were once again spreading out scrolls and parchments. Charlie, after a hesitant smile and nod in Ron's direction, had gone over to join the twins. Harry had watched Ron's face go from hopeful to disappointed to resigned to blank in a matter of moments, and couldn't help sympathizing with his friend. So far, no one had surprised Harry in the slightest with their actions, but he knew the real wild card was going to be Ginny.

Harry held his breath when she stepped into the library. They hadn't had a chance to talk since he bonded with Charlie or announced he was gay, and he had spent the last ten minutes imagining increasingly horrible reactions. Ginny, catching his look almost immediately, just rolled her eyes and took the four steps between them to grab him in a quick hug. She was smiling when she released him and said only,

"I'm glad you're okay, Harry." She then jumped into Charlie's arms to give him a hug as well and a kiss on the cheek, waved at the three by the table, stoutly ignored Ron, and took a seat on the other side of the twins. Harry frowned, looking between Ron and the cluster of red-heads on the other side of the room. He had meant it when he told Charlie he wasn't ready to forgive Ron just yet, but he hardly wanted him treated like a death-eater either (and with that thought came a whole slew of emotions suspiciously like guilt to the front of his mind, accompanied by the image of a certain potions professor). Quickly making a decision, Harry pulled the library door closed behind him and purposely sat in the chair closest to Ron.

Everyone in the room froze, watching him with wide-eyed shock. Ron in particular looked in danger of his eyes popping out of his head all together. Only Remus and Hermione seemed unaffected, the former just smiling quietly to himself and the latter too engrossed in reading and taking notes to have noticed where Harry sat in the first place.

After a few tense moments, Remus cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"Now that we're all settled, Harry and Charlie would like all of you to help with a few issues the Order has been discussing. Normally, I would not be at liberty to discuss Order matters with you, but as these issues are also personal for both Harry and Charlie, and pose little to no threat to any of you, I have agreed to make an exception. Now…" As Lupin and Black took turns catching the others up to speed, Harry watched his friends' reactions closely.

Fred and George both grew still and stormy when they talked about the backlash the news could have among Hogwarts students, and the prejudices Harry would face.

Ron had gotten a thoughtful, far-off look in his eyes when they talked about the prophet's reaction and the mere two week time window they thought they would have before the bonding was discovered.

Ginny had narrowed her eyes dangerously when Sirius had reluctantly admitted that certain Order members were calling for Charlie's dismissal, saying he had gone against Dumbledore and therefore betrayed them.

Hermione had taken on a look of fierce determination as Remus described what Harry's votes in the high council meant.

It wasn't until Hermione asked how many votes Harry actually had that all of them seemed to find a reaction to agree on. Remus and Sirius shared a look before the animagus turned to her with an answer.

"Because the Black and Potter lines have merged through Harry… eleven." There was a collective gasp around the room. Hermione looked god-smacked, Charlie slightly ill, and the rest of the Weasley's jaws were hanging open.

"What? What's wrong?" Harry asked the room at large, an all too familiar feeling of being the only one not included on some big secret settling down on his shoulders.

"Harry," Remus explained softly. "The Blacks held six votes in their name, and your parents voted with five. Both families were among the most powerful on the High Council. Before you, the Malfoy family had held the record for voting power in a single family line… with eight votes." For the second time that day, Harry threw his head back and groaned.

"Bloody hell."

XxXxXxXxX

Harry lay in his bed in the room he shared with Fred and stared blankly into the darkness. Bill, who was staying at headquarters for the time being since his transfer out of Egypt, had swapped places with Ron after George had jinxed him in his sleep three nights in a row. Ron had paled when he realized that that left him and Charlie sharing a room, but while Harry certainly wouldn't say the two brothers were on friendly terms yet, he knew Ron had nothing to worry about.

Shifting around for the twentieth time in as many minutes, Harry let out a frustrated sigh, giving up all pretenses of trying to sleep and instead allowing his thoughts to wander back to the meeting in the library earlier that day.

_After the announcement of Harry's eleven votes, both Sirius and Remus had had to leave. Remus was on assignment for Dumbledore that he would not discuss, and Sirius was due for a fire-call with Kingsly Shacklebolt. Black had been asked to share his knowledge of Azkaban and the dementors with several people since the attack on Little Whinging, and while hardly a favored subject for him, he was thrilled to finally be contributing to the cause in some way._

_Once the two men had taken their leave, Harry stood awkwardly and cleared his throat._

"_Right, er, I know it's summer, and none of you need to feel obligated to help with this in any way, but—"_

"_Don't be daft, Harry…"_

"…_of course we're helping." Fred and George cut in, and the other three quickly nodded their agreement. Harry felt his stomach un-knot, and when he continued speaking he did so with much more confidence._

"_Great, thank you." He smiled at all of them. "I was thinking if everyone took one piece of the problem to focus on, that we might come up with better solutions." This was met by another round of nodding, and after an awkward moment of silence, Harry realized they were waiting for him to dole out assignments, once again trusting him to lead them with blind faith. Harry quickly swallowed back the lump in his throat, and focused instead on the way his friends had responded to different parts of the conversation, as well as the strengths each one had._

"_Fred, George, I need you to come up with a plan for Hogwarts. Think worst case scenario, and figure out how I'm going to avoid being cursed on my way to class. If anyone can protect me, you can"_

"_Don't worry…"_

"…_we got your back." Harry grinned and turned to Ron._

"_Can you come up with a way to deal with the Prophet? I've seen you play chess, and you're brilliant with strategizing. You'll be able to look five moves ahead of what I could anticipate them doing. Ron," he added quietly, waiting for the red-head to meet his eyes. "I trust your judgment." It wasn't quite forgiveness; Harry had yet to decide where Ron stood with him on a personal level. He did believe that Ron was capable of finding the best solution here, though, and the hitch in Ron's breathing and the way tension seemed to melt from his shoulders told Harry it was enough for now._

"_I won't let you down."_

"_I know." He held Ron's gaze for just a minute longer, then turned to Ginny. "Gin, how do you feel about doing some more sneaking for me?" He couldn't hold back his wide smile at Ginny's answering look of pure mischief._

"_Harry, I thought you'd never ask. What would you like me to find out?"_

"_I need to know who in the Order has my back and who just sees me as a tool against Voldemort. But Gin," he cut in quickly as he saw her eyes begin to glaze over as she plotted. "Your top priority is finding out who is trying to get Charlie out of the Order."_

"_You got it." Harry was glad to see from her expression that she was taking the importance of her task seriously._

"_Charlie," he continued, but seeing his bondmate's look of surprise that he was being assigned something as well, Harry hesitated. He wondered if he had over-stepped. Charlie, however, was quick to reassure him._

"_No, Harry, tell me what you had in mind. I'm in this with you, but I would have had no idea where to even start. Tell me how I can be helpful."_

"_I need you to talk to Dumbledore and your father; find out what the High Council is working on right now, find out when they meet next, find out if…" he braced himself before continuing, "…if a personal request from the-boy-who-lived is likely to change anyone's votes." Harry pointedly avoided making eye contact with any of the others, not eager to see their reactions to the way he was planning to manipulate his fame. "You're the one who has to actually cast our votes until I'm seventeen, I know this isn't what you probably want to spend your time on, but—"_

"_I'm happy to. You're right, I need to be informed. I promise I don't mind," he assured quickly, not wanting his bondmate feeling guilty for no reason. Finally, Harry turned to Hermione and chuckled at the puzzled, slightly annoyed look on her face. She had no doubt noticed that every roadblock they had discussed so far had been doled out. _

"_Was there anything you needed me to do?" She asked grumpily, thrying and failing ot keep the bitterness from her voice._

"_Yeah, actually. You're the only one I trust with this…" _

_He and Charlie had spent the next two hours answering question after question about their new connection to Norbert and the other dragons, while Hermione had furiously scribbled down parchment after parchment of notes. By the time she had announced them free to go ("for now…"), both men were exhausted and had decided to stay and sleep at Grimmauld Place for the night._

Harry sighed again, pulling his thoughts back to the present and the fact that it was the early hours of the morning and he still hadn't fallen asleep. There was a pounding behind his eyes and he concentrated on slowing down his breathing, As he finally slipped off into unconsciousness, images and sensations began emerging out of the blackness.

A long, dark corridor.  
Polished stone floors.  
The cool sliding sensation across his stomach.  
A strange doorway.  
The potent taste of protective magic in the airs.  
A searing pain in his scar…

"Harry? Harry!" There were arms around his shoulders, and a rapid heartbeat beneath his ear. He blinked his eyes open slowly and felt glasses sliding onto this face. Fred was as pale as death, watching him with an expression of deep sadness. Ron was pale as well, though recovering much quicker having been witness to Harry's visions before. Carefully, Harry turned his head and looked up to see that it was Charlie cradling him in his arms, rocking him back and forth soothingly and looking down into his eyes with concern. Harry noticed, though ,that none of the alarm or fear apparent on his brothers' faces was present on Charlie's and the realization made him feel oddly warm inside.

"What happened?" He asked, though he imagined he had a fairly good idea.

"You started thrashing around mate, and then you were screaming. I couldn't wake you up. I didn't know what to do so I ran and got Charlie. As soon as he touched you, you started to calm down…" Fred trailed off, and Harry looked back at Charlie uneasily. The older man, however, simply stared back down at him with the same calm concern.

"Is it…" Ron trailed off and seemed to re-think asking his question for a moment, but then shrugged and started again. "Did he calm you down because of the bond?" Harry and Charlie looked at each other in surprise.

"…It's possible?" Charlie answered thoughtfully.

"Another puzzle for Hermione then," Harry added, disentangling himself from his bondmate reluctantly and sitting up on his own. Ron nodded, and appeared to be experiencing a fierce internal debate. IN the end, he straightened and held himself in a determined stance. Harry didn't understand why he looked like he was marching into battle until he spoke next.

"Then Charlie needs to stay in here. Fred… can share the room with me tonight." Harry couldn't hide his surprise at the offer, and quickly looked to Fred for his reaction, knowing exactly why Ron was so hesitant. Fred, too, was clearly surprised, and was giving his little brother a calculating look.

"I suppose we could call a truce for one night. For Harry's sake, of course." He turned and left the room, followed a little more slowly by Ron. Harry blinked after them in astonishment, and might have stayed that way for some time if Charlie hadn't spoken up at last and startled Harry abruptly from his daze.

"And here I thought taking you to a muggle gay bar was going to be the most interesting thing that happened today."

"_You're taking me where?!"_

* * *

__**Author Note: **Oops! Forgot to save my note before I posted the chapter! I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and for all of your reviews! They really make my day and keep me motivated to continue writing. I especially wanted to thank Stardust of Orion who has posted a review on nearly every chapter so far, as well as a few others who have stood out with the number of reviews they have left me: chipmunk1964, Evening Rise, geetac, gypsydancer529, happytimez4life, hortensia, Lientjuhh, V. L. Crawford, and VERA VIV.

I am also really excited to finally have some Harry/Charlie action to share with you next chapter! I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

-Emmette


	24. Chapter 24

~ Chapter Twenty-Four ~

"Stop fidgeting with them," Charlie reprimanded playfully, glancing down at the nervous young man beside him. That was definitely a mistake, as once again he had to fight to stop himself from reaching out and running his hands over the delectable boy next to him. Charlie had dug through his closet to the very back corners to find a far-too-tiny pair of skinny jeans from his years in Hogwarts, and a silver and green tank-top he hadn't fit into in years. When Harry had slunk out of the bathroom five minutes later, long hair falling over his face to hide his blush, Charlie had almost regretted his own extremely tight pants. It had taken another half-hour to finally convince Harry to wear the outfit past the front door, and Charlie had come to the conclusion that he could now die happily after getting a good look at the other side of the ensemble when Harry walked out of the cabin in front of him.

"They're too tight, aren't they? I must look ridiculous," Harry muttered, still pulling at the snug jeans. Charlie wasn't sure where he found the strength, but he managed to drag his attention away from his bondmate's body and back up to his face. His hungry gaze softened immediately, seeing the panicked look and soft blush on Harry's face as he looked anxiously down at the clothes. Without thinking about it too much, Charlie leaned down and trapped Harry's hands in his own, smiling reassuringly in return to the younger man's startled look.

"They're perfect," he whispered, not hiding the raw arousal from his voice and knowing he was going to hell but not really caring as he thoroughly enjoyed the way Harry's eyes darkened and his breath hitched.

"Well Harry, here we are! Let me show you around." The moment was broken as Pavel shoved his way between them, slinging an arm over Harry's shoulders and steering him in through the entrance, slyly slipping the door-man some extra bills while Harry wasn't looking, in return for the man "forgetting" to check their IDs. They disappeared among the crowd, leaving Charlie and the rest of the tamers to find their own way inside. The others walked past the red-head, oblivious to his troubles.

Charlie growled, fists clenched at his sides, and nearly took a swing at the man behind him when he chuckled quietly and tousled the red-head's hair.

"Whoa, easy Charlie. No need for fisticuffs!"

"Benji!" Charlie exclaimed in delight, his frustration from the moment before temporarily forgotten. Beniamin Cesereanu was the first muggle Charlie had ever made friends with. He was tall and dark, and with a solid six years over Charlie's own age and an aura of danger around him, he had been the first man the red-head had pursued after he first ran off to Romania. Benjamin had had no interest in an angry, rebellious teenager, but he hadn't wanted to see Charlie taken advantage of, either, and so had taken the young man grudgingly under his wing. Both had spent the first year or so of their 'friendship' more or less furious with the other, but somehow Charlie's childish pursuits and Benji's relentless interferences had turned into a strong friendship. Charlie allowed himself to be crushed in a short hug, before wincing guiltily under his friend's stern gaze.

"I see we are back to throwing punches in parking lots, frumosule. _[Romanian for: beautiful one, or handsome]_ I rather thought you had grown out of that years ago. Must I begin blocking you from the bar and dragging you away by the ear from men who are no good for you once more?"

"You just startled me, you know I've grown up and can behave myself."

"So you say. And yet you snarl like an animal when your friend walks off with the pretty toy you are lusting after." Charlie's eyes widened, having not realized that Benji had witnessed the entire exchange. As all of his words sunk in, however, he found himself surprisingly angry.

"Harry is not a toy!" He hissed, and he wasn't sure if he or his friend were more surprised by the strength of the fury in his voice.

"Not lust then… love. This is new, frumosule. Come, I will buy you a drink and you will tell me of the little one who has managed to squirm his way into your heavily guarded heart." With this, Benji brushed past him, apparently completely unaffected by Charlie's outburst a moment before and clearly expecting the red-head to follow obediently. With a sigh of resignation, Charlie shook his head and did as he was told.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry couldn't figure out what to look at first, and as a consequence was eternally happy for Pavel's strong grip on his shoulders as he would surely have run into at least a dozen people by now were it not for the other man patiently steering him through the throng of sweat-slick, gyrating bodies. All around them were flashing lights, blaring music, and men wrapped in each other's arms, grinding against one another. A few couples were pressed up against each other in dark corners, mouths locked and seemingly oblivious to the chaos around them. Harry thought his heart might jump right out of his chest it was beating so fast, and he looked around anxiously, wondering where Charlie had gone.

They had arrived at a bar, and Harry gratefully slid onto one of the stools, starting to grow a little uncomfortable with Pavel's body so close to his own. Besides, he needed a chance to breathe and collect his thoughts. The look in Charlie's eyes just outside the club… _"They're perfect."_ Harry shivered at the memory, then jumped with a very undignified 'eep!' as two hands rubbed slowly down his arms.

"You cold?" Pavel's voice murmured right next to his ear, and Harry tried to relax. The other man's voice sounded funny, and Harry was beginning to grow tired of the constant contact with the older wizard.

"I'm fine, thanks though." He answered stiffly, trying to soften his tone with a smile, though it felt strained even to him. A strange look flashed in Pavel's eyes, but a moment later it was gone and the man had held his hands up in surrender, smiling brightly enough that Harry wondered if perhaps he had just imagined it.

"Message received, I'll behave myself." He winked before sliding into the stool next to Harry, and the younger boy valiantly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Barman, two of the house special, please." He turned to Harry with yet another wink. "My treat, of course."

"I'll just have water, actually." Pavel laughed, though it didn't sound very genuine to Harry's ears, and placed a hand on the back of Harry's neck, rubbing the skin there.

"No, Harry, you'll love it! Trust me! Two specials, sir, and—"

"Water. Thank you." Harry repeated firmly, pulling the hand off of his neck and placing it pointedly on the counter-top. The bar tender looked between them curiously, and when he returned he had an ice water for Harry, which he placed on the opposite side from Pavel, well out of his reach. Harry caught the man's eyes for just a second and took the hint, pulling the glass close to his chest and leaning forward protectively, determined not to give anyone the chance to add anything to it.

Pavel began talking again, a sharp edge now apparent in his voice, and Harry tried very hard to tune him out as he scanned the crowd for Charlie. He wasn't brave enough to move beyond the bar on his own, but he suddenly had the very strong urge to be far away from his companion.

He was on his third scan of the bar when he suddenly froze, a tight feeling settling in his stomach. Sitting at the other end of the bar, with his back to Harry, was Charlie. Across from him, leaning in close and listening with rapt attention, every now and then playing with the ends of Charlie's wild red hair, was a gorgeous, dark man with a chiseled face and strong build. The man smiled unexpectedly, a softness entering his eyes for just a moment as he lay a gentle hand on Charlie's face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone as he spoke quietly, words that Harry could only guess at, and unfortunately was doing just that with his over-active imagination. He was so caught up in his surveillance that he completely missed the calculating look that Pavel had, looking from Harry to Charlie and back again, or the wicked smirk that crossed his lips before he schooled his features into something more casual.

"Ah, Benji's here tonight! Lucky Charlie."

"Huh, what?" Harry had nearly forgotten the other man was sitting behind him at the bar, but at the mention of his bondmate's name, his attention snapped immediately back over to Pavel. "What did you say?"

"Hmmm?" Pavel asked innocently, struggling not to chuckle at how easy it was going to be to play the naïve young man. "Oh, just that it's lucky for Charlie that his lover is here tonight. I don't suppose we'll see him again until midday tomorrow." He drew out the word 'lover' lewdly, and looked out at the dance floor when he had finished speaking, sipping his drink and ignoring the flash of pain he had seen jump into Harry's eyes.

Harry turned once again to watch the two men at the end of the bar. Lover? Charlie hadn't mentioned anything. But then, it wasn't as if Charlie had to report to Harry about his love-life. They may be bonded, but no one had ever pretended it was anything more than a way to get the best out of an unfortunate situation. Charlie had already proven what a loyal friend he was prepared to be for Harry, that alone was more than he had the right to expect. And now that he thought about it, hadn't Charlie seemed reluctant to have Harry along tonight when he first mentioned Pavel's invitation? Perhaps this was why; he didn't want his little brother's pal getting in the way. Harry hadn't even considered that Charlie might have someone significant in his life when he agreed to the bonding. Harry blinked back the warm prickling sensation behind his eyes as he realized just how selfish he had been, and turned away as the dark man cupped Charlie's face in his hands and leaned in to press a kiss to the red-head's forehead.

Harry slid from his stool and began weaving his way back towards the entrance. He had just made it out the doors when a hand grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"Harry! Where are you going? Come back in, I want someone to dance with." Pavel's body was pressed along his own and his fingers felt too tight where they had slid down to grip his wrist.

"No thank you," Harry muttered angrily through gritted teeth, patience all but gone. Finally, the smile slide form Pavel's face, and he sneered down at his companion.

"Oh boo hoo, so Charlie isn't interested in a scrawny little runt with a stupid scar. You can't really be surprised, can you? Learn from tonight; the people who don't want you aren't worth chasing after. It's so much better to find someone more… interested… and just let yourself enjoy the ride." Harry shrunk back, both from the hand running down his chest and the seductive tone that had slipped into Pavel's voice.

"You're right, Pavel," Harry answered in a voice much stronger than he felt. "It really is a waste of time to keep chasing after someone who so clearly isn't interested. So I'm sure you won't bother following me as I head back to the reserve." Without a second glance at the scowling dragon tamer, Harry spun on his heel and took off up the street. It wasn't until he had been stormily stomping through the streets for a solid ten minutes that he realized it was going to take him hours to make it back to the reserve with no one to jump him between common apparition points and no muggle money for muggle transportation. The few wizarding coins in his pocket would be equally useless.

"Brilliant Harry… you're a bloody genius." Harry smacked a hand on his forehead, but didn't stop or turn back.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie stared down at the drink Benji had placed in front of him when they reached the bar. They had passed Harry and Pavel on their way to sit down, the other tamer's hand rubbing along his bondmate's neck.

"Frumosule, your eyes are sad and stormy tonight. Why don't you tell me about the young man. Harry you called him, yes?"

"There's nothing to tell." Benji snorted in response, something that would normally have been laughable from the dignified man, but tonight didn't even get Charlie to crack a smile.

"Charlie, I have never seen anything stop you from going after someone you wanted. You chased me around for nearly a year! What is it that makes you look so hopeless when you talk about this boy?"

"I am not going to trap his life in with mine any more than I have already!" Charlie snapped harshly, then closed his eyes and grimaced when he realized he had just given away too much. There was a soft tug on his hair and he looked up to see Benji giving him a rare, tender look.

"What do you mean little one?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"Ah, more secrets then. Does this have anything to do with the way you disappear into thin air when you go home or the fact that you talk about dragons when you have had too much to drink or the stick you always carry with you that you think no one notices, but that you used to reach for every time you got nervous when you first started coming here?" Charlie gaped at his friend in astonishment. Benji had never before given any indication that he had any idea the red-head was anything out of the ordinary.

"How… when…?"

"You are not nearly as sneaky as you like to think you are, frumosule. I accepted a long time ago that there are parts of you I will never be able to understand. It is of little importance to me. After all, I know all the important things; who you are in here." He tapped Charlie's chest and sat back in his stool. "Now, tell me what sort of mess you've gotten yourself into this time." Charlie was quiet for a few minutes, trying to decide what he could and could not say.

"Harry… has not had an easy life. There was a man, a terrible man, years ago who killed many people with his followers. When Harry was a baby, this man killed his parents. He tried to kill Harry then, too, but for some reason, it… didn't work. And he disappeared for a long time. Not dead, but too weak to be of any danger. For the last four years, Harry has had to fight for his life every year as a result of the man's destruction. The last time, against the man himself."

"So he's back." Charlie fought back a shudder at the implications those words had, which Benji could not possibly begin to understand.

"He's back," Charlie agreed simply, then continued his story. "And he's not going to stop coming after Harry until one of them is dead." Charlie's fists clenched and shook, though Benjamin, watching him, highly doubted the younger man had noticed. "Something happened this summer that put Harry in a lot of danger, and it could only be avoided if he… um, married someone. It was decided for him that he would b—marry my little sister. Then my mother was going to force Harry into hiding until he was an adult and could make his own decisions."

"As you brought him to a gay bar tonight, I take it there was more than one problem with that little plan."

"Quite."

"Could he not just get a divorce later?"

"Let's just say a divorce would not be an option in this case. Ever." He shot his friend a look that warned him not to dig any deeper.

"I… see."

"Harry needed to be put with someone who would help him learn how to survive so he was ready the next time his life was put in danger. And he needed to be put with someone who would let him fall in love in his own way in his own time, with whomever he chose. With my sister, it would have been a marriage in the traditional sense. And they're just bloody kids. Harry's bloody fourteen years old!" If Benji had concerns about Charlie falling for a fourteen-year-old, he didn't say anything. Instead, he lifted Charlie's chin so the man's troubled eyes met his own.

"You said you were not going to trap his life with yours any more than you already had. Did you marry that boy, Charlie?"

"Yes," he whispered, almost hoping Benjamin would finally lose his temper after all these years and punch Charlie right in the face. At least it would feel better than the guilt, and it would be a good distraction from the jealousy. Benji, however, just sat there quietly, searching Charlie's eyes with his own for several minutes before speaking again.

"Why?"

"I thought I could help protect him… teach him… I could give him as much freedom as possible given the situation… I knew he would never be happy with Ginny, and I knew he would blame himself that he could never be what she needed, either… and I…" He shook his head, unable to finish the thought, and felt warm hands cupping his face.

"And you love him," Benji finished.

"I… don't know." Charlie sighed heavily in frustration, and Benji leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead before letting him go. Benji had been the only one other than Bill to ever give Charlie the physical affection he needed, and Bill had never noticed what he was doing. Benji, though, a man who had a reputation of being cool and aloof, would happily sit at the bar all night long with his arm around Charlie's shoulders not saying a word if it was what the younger man needed. For the millionth time, Charlie thanked whatever higher power had intervened and stopped him from getting the one-night stand he had sought after with Benji. They had never slept together, but what they shared was so much better.

"You say you wanted to give him choices in life, yes?"

"He deserves it. Anyone deserves to choose their own path in life."

"Then I am left to wonder why you are not letting him choose for himself whether the two of you should share more than you do now." Charlie thought these words over carefully, and slowly a smile bloomed onto his face. He leaned forward and gave his friend an obnoxious, smacking kiss on the cheek, then turned to go get Harry back. His steps slowed as he noticed that both Pavel and his bondmate were gone, the grin sliding off his face once more as he scanned the crowd for them. When he didn't find them, he motioned the bar tender over towards him, indicating the seats they had been sitting in and asking if he saw where they were going.

"Yeah, I remember them. The little sprite and the one with the hungry eyes. They left about ten minutes ago." He gestured vaguely towards the entrance then moved on to take the order of a couple who had just sat down. Charlie felt oddly numb as he returned to Benji's side on auto-pilot. The older man started to say something, but Charlie waved it off and tuned him out, getting the bar-tender's attention once more.

"Shots." He ordered flatly.

"Of…?"

"Whatever's strongest." The man eyed him critically, but shrugged and accepted the red-head's cash.

"Charlie, you are being an imbecile," Benjamin warned, shaking the young man's shoulder to get his attention. Charlie shook the hand off and scowled.

"If Harry wants to spend the night in another man's bed, I'm not about to go running off and drag him back."

"And how do you know that's what he is doing? Have you asked him? Did he tell you where he was going? He did not look interested in that friend of yours, frumosule. I was watching them while you talked, and I am telling you—"

"Just bugger off old man, I'm not a child and you're not my father!" Benji's expression did not change, but Charlie would have recognized the pain in his eyes had he bothered to look. Without another word, Benjamin finished off his own drink, dropped some bills on the counter, and walked away.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry had been walking for nearly three hours, was hopelessly lost, and had begun to seriously consider finding a nice alley to take a nap in by the time he remembered the Knight Bus. _"…emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard…"_ Well, that certainly applied to his current situation. Whether or not he had enough money he didn't know, but he was definitely desperate enough to try it. Holding out his wand hand and straining his ears, he was prepared when a triple decker purple bus appeared barreling down the street with a loud CRACK! and he quickly leapt out of the way.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transp—"

"Stan, hey, how many public floos are in the area?"

"—sport for the stranded witch or wizard, my name is Stan Shunp—huh?"

"Public floos. Is there a way to look up where they are?"

"Oh, er… yeah. Map, on the bus. One secon'." Harry smiled as the awkward bus attendant scrambled back onto the bus, supposedly in search of a map. A minute later he returned. "Madame Anca's Flower Emporium, just a nip away. Ain't another one for an 'undred miles or so." Harry grinned brightly. He hadn't thought to check the name, but he certainly remembered laughing at Charlie for his uncontrollable sneezing when they slipped in the flower shop to use the floo on their way to Privet Drive, and again when they visited headquarters the day before. It was a tiny building, on the edge of a small town very near the reserve. If Harry could get there, he was sure he could find his way.

"And how much would it cost to get from here to Madame Anca's?"

"That short? Well… only about four sickles, I'd reckon." He answered slowly, rubbing the back of his neck and biting his tongue between his teeth as he tried to calculate in his head.

"Three sickles, two knuts." Came an impatient voice from inside the bus, and Stan grinned.

"Ah, tha's right! Three sickles, two knuts!" Harry pulled the coins out that had been left in the pocket of Charlie's old jeans after they had been abandoned at the back of the red-head's closet. He counted four silver sickles and five bronze knuts. He sighed in relief and handed the correct coins to Stan, who quickly checked the amount then stepped back to welcome Harry aboard with a flourish. "Alrigh' then, after you!"

By the time he had recovered from the rocky busride and dragged himself the rest of the way onto the reserve and over to Charlie's cabin, even the clench in his heart when he thought of Charlie and the dark stranger was becoming shadowed by the pain in his feet and the desire to get out of the unnecessarily tight jeans. He let himself in, not bothering with the lights, and had just managed to shimmy out of the pants when strong arms circled him from behind and there was warm breath on his neck. He nearly shrieked, but Charlie's voice by his ear stopped him.

"Harry, you're back! You weren't here. Are you okay? You didn't leave with Petru, I saw him at the bar, and then I came here and you weren't here. How did you get back? You were at the bar with him… aaaand then you weren't. So I did shots. LOTS of shots, Harry." The man giggled, and Harry managed to wiggle himself around so that he could try and get a look at the other man in the dark.

"Merlin, Charlie, did you leave any alcohol for the rest of the crowd?" He asked, catching a whiff of the potent liquor breath Charlie was sporting.

"I'm sorry… sorry sorry sorry…" the red-head trailed off as he stumbled and his lips brushed against the soft skin of Harry's neck. He hummed happily and began to nuzzle there, hands sliding down to grip the boy's thin hips firmly.

"Ch-charlie, w-what are you sorry for?" Harry stuttered, trying desperately to focus past the hormones rushing through his body. Some part of him knew Charlie was drunk, and that Harry should be the responsible sober one and push Charlie away. _I'm helping him stay steady, wouldn't want him to fall, _another part of his brain argued. It wasn't at all a convincing argument, but as Harry arched his neck to give the other man more access and gasped as Charlie's hands slid up his shirt to touch the warm skin of his back, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Sorry… for liking you. 'M not s'posed to do that. But I can't get myself to stop… my little dragon…" Somehow, Harry's shirt had ended up on the floor and he was struggling to understand Charlie's words as his mind was riveted completely on the searing kisses being pressed lower and lower down his torso. Fingers began to fumble with the waist-band of his boxers and he heroically managed to pull himself back to reality for a moment.

"Charlie, wait, you're drunk, you—" he reached down to hold the other man back, and his fingers ended up tangled in the wild red hair he loved so much. Then there was a warm, wet tongue circling his belly-button and Harry groaned and clenched his hand automatically, pulling on Charlie's hair as a result and eliciting an erotic moan from his bondmate. Harry's mind short-circuited then, his hips bucking of their own accord, and before he could process what had happened he was naked, the strong hands returning to his hips and Charlie's tongue was licking a warm stripe down his length.

Both hands found their way to Charlie's hair of their own accord, Harry's head thrown back as he moaned, Charlie's lips closing around him and his tongue doing sinfully delightful things to the head of Harry's cock. He gasped again as the red-head moaned and added the extra stimulation of the sound's vibrations. He forced himself to look down, eyes now adjusted to the dark, and found his gaze held captive by the smoldering hunger in Charlie's eyes, the other man looking up through his bangs as his head bobbed between Harry's legs.

Harry's thighs were shaking and he knew he would be on the floor by now if not for Charlie's strong grip on his waist. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and began to run his fingers tenderly through Charlie's hair and over his face. He pressed a thumb to the other man's cheek and lips and felt the stretch where he was disappearing over and over again into the tight heat of Charlie's mouth. He moaned again, hearing and feeling the red-head's echoing groans. Charlie hallowed his cheeks and his eyes fluttered shut as he focused entirely on Harry's pleasure, and the younger man felt the tightening and rush that meant he was close.

He pulled roughly at Charlie's hair where one hand was still entangled in the fiery mane, trying and failing to form words of warning. Charlie, though, just gave a loud, happy whine and swallowed Harry all the way down. With a shout that may or may not have resembled Charlie's name, Harry's hips bucked forward one final time and then froze. He watched in fascination as Charlie swallowed everything, and then slowly slid back, licking his lips in a way that somehow, impossibly, made Harry twitch in interest even after the most intense orgasm of his young life.

Harry stumbled backwards a couple steps to lean against the nearest wall, closing his eyes and concentrating on catching his breath. Even as he came down from the physical high, the emotional pleasure—the feeling of extreme closeness and the way he had felt connected with Charlie—didn't fade. He smiled, chest swelling with happiness that he had been wrong, that Charlie wanted him after all… Charlie. Harry's eyes shot open and he looked around in alarm for the red-head, who was no longer kneeling in front of him.

"Charlie?" There was a sound from the other side of the room, and he carefully made his way over to where the bed and the cot stood side by side. Lying on the bed, fully dressed, was Charlie. He had completely passed out, and the only evidence of what had happened in the cabin moments before was the way his lips looked slightly more swollen than usual.

It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him with a sack of bricks, and Harry practically fell onto the cot, arms and legs trembling as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. _He was drunk. I took advantage. He probably had no idea what he was doing or at least who he was doing it with. Merlin, what have I done…_

After pulling on the ripped shorts and worn t-shirt he had been using as pajamas, Harry crawled shakily under the covers and stared blankly into the darkness. What the hell was he supposed to say to Charlie in the morning?

* * *

**Author note: ** Aaaah, don't hate me! It's not like they were both going to pull their heads out of their butts over a single chapter... Still, at least now the ice is broken.

I will not be posting a chapter on Friday; I lost my uncle this past weekend, and will be at his wake and the celebration of his life all day. However, I will post a new chapter on Saturday, and it will be longer than usual! Thank you again to everyone who has continued to read my story so far. :)

-Emmette


	25. Chapter 25

~ Chapter Twenty-Five ~

The sound of insistent knocking startled Harry from a restless sleep. He blinked groggily, wincing as he realized he had fallen asleep with his glasses on, and they were now embedded crookedly into his face.

"Ow," he grumbled raspily, half-walking half-stumbling to the door and pulling it open with one eye still closed.

"Er… Bill?" He blinked in confusion and stood back to let the taller man into the cabin.

"'Morning," he answered brightly, paying no attention to Harry's rumpled appearance.

"Good morning?" Harry pushed his glasses aside to rub his eyes, thinking as he resettled them onto his face that he was forgetting something important. His eyes landed on his outfit from the night before, strewn around the room, and just like that the events of the night came flooding back into his mind.

Charlie.  
The bar.  
Pavel's flirting.  
Charlie and the dark man.  
Wandering around.  
The Knight Bus.  
Charlie's mouth on him.  
_Charlie._

"Shit," he whispered, looking to where the bed was rumpled but empty, and seeing after a quick scan that there was no sign of Charlie in the rest of the room either. Even the bathroom was open and dark, so his bondmate wasn't in there either. Suddenly Bill's appearance at the reserve seemed much less accidental.

"Harry, is everything alright?" Bill's expression was somber and while his tone had been gentle, Harry could see how the man had survived helping six younger siblings grow up. There was no doubt in the younger wizard's mind that what Bill was actually saying was, "Harry, we both know everything is not alright but I will give you chance to choose whether or not we talk about it, even though I feel very strongly that discussing the issue is the best plan."

"Why are you here?" He asked, turning his back on Bill and very maturely ignoring the red-head's question all together.

"Charlie sent Hedwig this morning. He said you wanted to go back to headquarters and wanted to know if I could take you today since it's my day off."

"Oh, er, right. That's… um, just let me finish packing quick." He started tossing things haphazardly into his only partially-unpacked trunk and carefully avoided making eye contact with Bill. Charlie must have snuck out at the crack of dawn to make sure Harry didn't wake up while he was still there. Frankly, Harry was shocked he had managed to not only wake up that early but also navigate the cabin quietly in the dark with the hang-over he must have had.

Harry knew this was his own fault, that his actions last night were unforgiveable, but it didn't stop the sharp pain in his chest that Charlie was getting rid of him. Even after what Harry had done, though, Charlie had tried to make it look like Harry had just decided to cut his visit short. _"He said you wanted to go back to headquarters…" _The red-head was always protecting him, even when he didn't deserve it.

Harry glanced around the tiny cabin to see if he had forgotten anything, and suddenly found it very difficult to swallow around the lump rising in his throat. He hadn't been there long, but this had become home in a way that nowhere but Hogwarts ever had. In the sink was 'his' mug, with the multi-colored broom-sticks zooming across the surface that he had tea in every morning. A quilt Mrs. Weasley had made years before was crumpled on the bottom of 'his' cot. Harry knew if he walked into the bathroom, a new, slightly crooked towel rod would be holding up 'his' towels right next to where Charlie hung his.

There was suddenly a gentle hand lifting his chin, and he saw that Bill's eyes had become clouded with worry, and the red-head's forehead was furrowed.

"Harry, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I… screwed up." He wasn't sure what had possessed him to say these words instead of the 'I'm fine, it's nothing' that he had originally intended. Something about lying to Bill after what he had done to Charlie, though, seemed terribly wrong. Bill's thumb caught a tear that Harry hadn't noticed falling.

"Hey now, none of that. Whatever happened, it can't be so bad."

"Bad enough for Charlie to send me away." Something flashed in Bill's eyes but Harry jerked away from the man and turned to his trunk before he had to try to figure out what it was. "Right, all packed. Let's get going."

XxXxXxXxX

Hermione huffed at the large tome she had been combing over for the last two hours and slammed it shut harder than necessary. A large cloud of dust shot out and Hermione glared across the small room at Ron as she coughed and sneezed, daring the red-head to laugh. Ron, however, had hardly glanced up at the interruption before turning back to his lists, drawing more arrows and tearing off another chunk of parchment, crumpling it up before turning it into ash with his wand.

They had taken over the little library that had belonged to Sirius' brother and neither had left for longer than it took to eat or use the bathroom for the past twenty-four hours. Even when Mrs. Weasley had come in to gather them to go to bed, they had gotten into their pajamas, crawled beneath the covers under Molly's critical eye, then were once again sitting in the library ten minutes later, wrapped in blankets and working by candle-light. They had both taken short cat-naps throughout the night, but neither had slept more than a few hours total.

Bill had stopped in when he woke up and asked what they were up to, but hadn't pushed when both Ron and Hermione and quickly hidden their notes and claimed to be doing homework. His eyebrows had risen in a look that clearly said 'you're both full of it,' but the only thing he said was that Harry would be coming back today, and that they should both get changed if they didn't want Molly realizing they had been there all night. Hermione had stared after him, mouth hanging open, but Ron (who was used to Bill's uncanny knack of knowing exactly what his siblings were up to) just set his parchments aside to go do as Bill had said.

Now, nearly an hour later, Hermione was wondering if it had been worth pulling an all-nighter at all. She was no closer to figuring out what was going on with the dragons or how it connected to Charlie's effect on Harry during his vision. She told Ron that she was going to take a break, see what Ginny was up to, but the only response she got was a distracted wave of his hand. Hermione frowned at him. There had been an uncomfortable detachment between them since the night he had nearly hit Harry, but they had never stopped being friends, per se. She had never seen him so focused or determined on a single task as he had been since Harry had asked him to deal with the Prophet, and the drastic change in his demeanor was difficult to adjust to. She could only hope he, at least, was making some sort of progress. With a final shrug, she left quietly.

XxXxXxXxX

He was missing something. Ron had practically thrown himself into the assignment Harry had given him, eager to start earning back trust from his best friend and desperate for something to do with hardly anyone at headquarters speaking to him. He now knew more about wizarding law and blood-line magic than he had ever planned to and, though he would deny it vehemently were Hermione to ask him, he realized it was something he should have started caring about a lot sooner.

With laws and customs backing him up, he had been feeling confident that Harry could get through this ordeal relatively unscathed until he remembered that everyone would know Sirius had had to give consent on Harry's behalf for the bond to take place. No efforts to stem the harassment and speculation of the media was going to matter if Harry and Charlie were sent to Azkaban for consorting with a wanted criminal, and Ron would give away his entire collection of Chudley Canon paraphernalia before he would believe that either one would turn on Sirius. And yet, there was something nagging at the back of his mind, a feeling that told him he had to keep going, that he was overlooking some vital detail.

He vaguely recognized the signs of frustration from Hermione as she dared to slam one of her precious books closed, and waved distractedly a few minutes later when she told him she was taking a break. He could feel her eyes on him from the doorway, and knew she had been expecting him to join her, but he had just found a small, hand-written book on the history of the Black Family Line, and for some reason he didn't want to stop scanning through the pages just yet. She finally left, and he let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Hermione was trying to keep things civil between them, and he appreciated it, really he did, but it was somehow worse than anything the others had done. At least their reactions told him clearly that he should have bloody well known better than going off the handle like that. He and hermione's strained companionship, though, basically said that in her eyes this had been just one more instance of Ron being Ron, and he wasn't at all comfortable with what that said about his character.

Something on the page in front of him caught his eye, and his eyes darted to the beginning of the passage, reading it through carefully.

_Discrepancies in Past Heritage_

_As per Black Family Tradition, control over the family line is passed down to the eldest child. This tradition was first altered with the death of Sirius Black I in 1853, at the age of eight. His inheritance then went to his brother, Pineas Nigellus Black, and subsequently onto his eldest son, Sirius Black II. From Sirius II the title was passed to Arcturus Black II, before tradition was altered a second time in 1929. In that year, Arcturus II's fourteen-year-old daughter, Lucretia, was stripped of the title of heir after the unexpected birth of Orion Black. While power had always gone to the eldest child in the past, a Black daughter had never before been first-born, and thus Arcturus was able to defend his actions by arguing that his son was better suited as he would carry on the Black family name. Arcturus was disowned by most of the family for his short-sidedness. Ignatius Prewett, who was at that time engaged to Lucretia Black, held the political power of the Prewett line and would have combined his vote to that of the Black line. Instead, Orion married his second cousin Walburga Black, to no political gain. Until her death in 1982, Lucretia threatened to challenge the Black family for Head of House, and though no actual attempt was ever made, it is yet unknown whose side the magic of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black would have taken. _

Ron read the passage through quickly a second time, his heart nearly beating out of his chest, then grabbed the book and ran with it into the study that presented the Black Family Tree tapestry on the wall. His eyes darted between the names in the book and the names and faces on the wall-hanging. He sat heavily, not sure how much longer his legs would hold him up. In his head, imaginary arrows were appearing between people and ideas and details that he had been mulling over for hours. This was the missing piece; this had the potential to get them an iron-clad story that would hold up in front of the High Council, the Wizengamont, and a good chunk of the Daily Prophet readers.

The only problem was that his family would need to make a lot of sacrifices to sell the story.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry prepared himself for the final apparition to street in front of Grimmauld Place, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the feeling of being squeezed through an impossibly tight tube at lightning speeds. He was not a fan of apparating.

His feet hit ground and he stumbled, not quite falling thanks to Bill's strong arm around his shoulders. It was not a dingy muggle street that he opened his eyes to see, however, but the cheery, colorful garden in front of the Burrow.

"Care for a cuppa tea?" Bill offered, striding past him towards the front door, and leaving an extremely bewildered Harry to follow slowly in his wake.

"Bill, why aren't we at headquarters?"

"I thought this might be a more private place for us to talk." Harry stopped short, glaring at the red-head now bustling around the kitchen.

"Talk about what?" He asked dangerously, and Bill finally dropped the innocent act and turned to face him full-on, expression calm but resolute.

"We're going to talk about why Charlie told me you wanted to go back to Grimmauld Place when you obviously had no idea you were leaving. We're going to talk about why Charlie was avoiding me like the plague when I got to the reserve and why you were crying a little while ago." He crossed his arms and his jaw set firmly, his next words laden with determination. "We're going to talk about why there's a giant hickey on your neck." And just like that, all the fight in Harry was gone.

Harry slumped down onto a kitchen chair and buried his head in his arms. He started talking, but all his words came out as muffled mumbling. There was a warm chuckle from Bill and then a hand was ruffling his hair.

"You're going to have to try that again there buddy, didn't catch a word of it." Harry lifted his head just enough to meet Bill's eyes, and for once he actually looked like the vulnerable teenager he was.

"If I look really pathetic while I tell what happened, do you promise not to hurt me?" Bill gave him a look that was half-concerned, half-amused.

"I'll see what I can do."

XxXxXxXxX

"So let me get this straight," Bill said, rubbing at his temples. "Charlie took you to a bar—"

"Yeah, a gay bar—"

"Doesn't matter. So Charlie took you to a bar, some creep Charlie works with tried to get you tipsy and feel you up—"

"Well he tried to buy me a drink, but just one, and he may have been a little touchy-feely, but it's not like—"

"Right, so the creep tried to get you drunk and get in your pants—"

"Merlin, Bill…"

"And then you wandered around a strange muggle city in the middle of the night because Charlie was too busy batting his eyes at some bloke to keep an eye on you—"

"You make it sound like he was doing something wrong, he just—"

"Because Charlie was horny and irresponsible, you had to take that death-trap on wheels to make it back to the reserve on your own—"

"I feel like you're over-reacting just a—"

"And then the drunk idiot accosted you—"

"I was hardly attacked!"

"So my drunkard of a brother pounced on your young, half-dressed self—"

"Don't mind me, I'll just be over here, in this corner, dieing of embarrassment…"

"—got you naked, had his wicked way with you—"

"Why don't you just owl Voldemort now, invite him over? Mercy killing…"

"—passed out like a lousy bum, ditched you in the morning without a word—"

"I would really like if this conversation ended now—"

"And it's all your fault. Does that about sum it up?"

"I really kind of hate you, just a little bit," was Harry's answer, his face a brighter red than even Ron had ever achieved. He started to turn his head, hearing the front door open in the other room, and the next thing he knew he was in a full body bind from the neck down and his jaw was magically glued shut.

"You wait here, I'll be right back." Harry's eyes followed Bill until he disappeared around the corner. He heard him greeting whoever had just arrived, and then the sound of his bondmate's voice had his heart rate suddenly accelerating. Harry felt the panic rise up and he silently cursed Bill with words that would make Sirius blush. He could hear the conversation continuing between the two red-heads, but couldn't discern what they were saying. Before he had the chance to contemplate an escape plan, there was a shout and a crash from the living room.

Suddenly a very angry Charlie was being levitated into the room, a mirror image of Harry's bound state. Bill sauntered in behind him, humming merrily and looking more than a little proud of himself. He deposited Charlie unceremoniously into the chair across from Harry, and with a flick of his wand, both captives began growling at the older man.

"You arse, Bill, what the hell is this?"

"Come on, don't be a git, just take me to headquarters!"

"Now now children, let's all relax," The smirking wizard rubbed his hands together and surveyed his prey with an evil glint to his eyes. Harry thought he would have to reconsider whether Charlie was the only brother the twins had learned their tricks from.

"So here's the situation. Harry says he took advantage of Charlie because he was drunk, so now naturally Charlie hates him and has sent him away. Charlie says he took advantage of Harry because he is young and innocent, so now naturally Harry hates him and Charlie had to let him leave." He turned around and headed towards the back door, stopping only to shout over his shoulder, "Please, discuss. I'll be taking a nap in the garden if you need anything!" before he let the door slam shut behind him.

There was an awkward silence for several minutes, until finally Harry couldn't stand it any longer.

"Charlie, I'm so sorry, I—"

"Please don't." Harry winced at the sharp interruption, looking down at the floor.

"No, Harry," Charlie's voice was much gentler this time, and he sighed quietly before continuing, careful to keep his voice soft as he did. "You did nothing wrong. I may have been drinking—"

"You passed out like two minutes after—"

"Yes, thank you!" Charlie blushed brightly, cutting Harry off before he could finish his thought. "It's a genetic thing, Weasleys and alcohol don't actually mix very well. Anyway, I may have been drinking, but I knew exactly what I was doing last night, and I did nothing more or less than I had been wanting to do all week, maybe longer."

"All week? But I thought…" He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say any more just yet.

"You thought I was just horny enough to go after anyone who was convenient?" Charlie's tone was self-deprecating, but he shook his head before Harry could say anything. "I've wanted to get my hands on you again since the day I healed the burns on your back," he admitted, watching Harry with a guarded expression. "Does that disgust you?"

"No. Not at all, actually." Both men attempted hesitant smiles, but soon Harry was biting his lip and looking uncertain again.

"What is it?"

"That man you were with at the bar… Pavel said he was your lover…" Charlie scowled.

"Pavel's a prat, and I ought to kick his bloody arse. Benji is a very dear friend; nothing more. Not now, not ever. Okay?" Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded, glad the red-head wasn't mad at his assumption. Charlie returned his smile, but then grew serious once more.

"I am the one who needs to apologize about last night. No, don't argue. I realize now that thinking I forced you into anything might have been jumping to conclusions, but there's still no excuse for the way I acted. I'm sure that must have been your first experience with a man…" He grinned a little teasingly at the bright flush to Harry's face. "Or with anyone, perhaps. It should have been special and loving, not quick and dirty. If… if you'll let me, I'd very much like to do it proper someday."

"Only if I can return the favor," Harry replied, surprising himself with his own boldness. Charlie's eyes darkened.

"Oh, I think we can make that happen." They gazed at each other for a few more moments, then Charlie huffed in annoyance and turned his head as much as he could towards the back door.

"Bill? Bill!" There was a pause, then a mop of red-head poked its way cautiously into the room.

"You called?"

"Can you please un-bind us?" Bill stepped slowly through the door, eyeing the two of them critically.

"Why?"

"I would very much like to kiss my bondmate now," Charlie answered, rolling his eyes in exasperation when Bill let out a victory woop. "Really, I swear you are all of six years old sometimes," he grumbled, taking his wand back from Bill as the binds released him.

"Sounds about right; six is all it would take to have you caught and bound after all!" He ducked away playfully, expecting Charlie to retaliate, and turned back in surprise a moment later to see what had stopped the attack. His eyes softened immediately, and his lips quirked up at the edges.

"Why were you here, anyway?" Harry asked him shyly.

"Bill left a note with şef, said to meet him here and that it was urgent."

"Wow, you red-heads are a sneaky lot."

"We try."

Charlie and Harry were standing mere inches apart, lost in each other's eyes. Charlie's hands were looped protectively around Harry's waist, hands rubbing soothing circles into the younger man's lower back. Harry had one hand pressed to Charlie's chest, the other resting along his jaw, one thumb brushing lightly over the red-head's lips. Charlie flicked his tongue out to catch the digit, and watched as Harry's eyes darkened in response. His own eyes smoldered in return, and he pressed a tiny kiss to Harry's thumb before nipping at it gently with his teeth. Then they were both leaning forward, Harry's arms wrapping around Charlie's shoulders as their lips slid together, both men letting their eyes flutter shut as they held each other.

Bill felt a warm glow in his chest watching them together. He wondered if either one had any idea how much he softened the rough edges of the other, each one lighting up in his bondmate's embrace.

The kiss stayed gentle, and only lasted for a minute, but both Harry and Charlie felt nearly overwhelmed by the sheer power of the moment.

"Alright love-birds," Bill teased lightly. "Let's talk damage control."

XxXxXxXxX

Remus snuck another glance at the pale young man next to him. They were almost at the visitor entrance to the Ministry, and the werewolf was nearly squirming with curiosity. He had been weary when Ron had first approached him about visiting Percy, but had reluctantly agreed to take him. When Ron had said it had to do with helping Harry and Charlie he had been intrigued. When Ron had come back ten minutes later dressed in his nicest robes and tie with his hair combed back, Lupin had literally had to bite his lips to stop from prying. Whatever the little red-head was hoping to accomplish, he had really thought this through and was evidently determined.

"Okay, well this is it," Remus said, coming to a halt and indicating the run-down telephone booth in front of them. "Now when you go in, you're going to want to pick up the phone and dial 62442. Don't forget to check your wand before you go up to the Minister's offices; the last thing I need is Molly coming after me because I let you get yourself detained by Ministry guards."

"Wait, you're not coming in with me?" Lupin flashed a feral grin at the nervous question.

"Werewolf, in the Ministry of Magic? Oh yes, that would go over very well."

"Right… okay, well, I'll be off."

"You want me to wait around for you to finish?" Ron looked tempted, but ended up shaking his head.

"Nah, I'll go find my dad, let him know I gave headquarters the slip. Don't worry, I won't rat you out. I um, probably need to talk to him after I've spoken with Percy anyway." He gave a sorry attempt at a smile then, with the air of a man headed to his own execution, he stepped into the phone booth.

Ron took the ride down and had his wand marked all as though being lead around by the hand. He hardly noticed the hustle and bustle of witches, wizards, and magical creatures all around him, and nodded distractedly when the man handing his wand back asked if he knew where he was going. As he took an elevator to the top floor, Ron went over his script carefully in his head. He couldn't quite bring himself to lie to Percy, not about this anyway, but he had to be careful not to give anything away that was supposed to remain in the Order. If that meant manipulating the truth a little, well…

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal an elegant reception area, two secretaries scribbling away behind their desks while a small flock of Ministry owls roosted in the corner. Ron cleared his throat to get the attention of the nearest witch, trying hard not to fidget.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"Er, I'm looking for Percy Weasley? He's the Junior Assistant to the minister."

"And do you have an appointment with Mr. Weasley?" Ron's ears pinked, and he squirmed uncomfortably both at the scrutinizing stare from the secretary and from the way his brother had been so formerly addressed.

"No. But I'm his brother. Um, Ron Weasley."

"I see. Wait here." She indicated a row of plush chairs against one wall, and disappeared down a wide hallway on the other end of the room. He had just sat down stiffly on the very edge of a chair when she returned. "Ronald, Mr. Weasley says he can see briefly. This way please." Ron had leapt to his feet and flushed at the use of his full name, but nodded and followed the woman back down the hall without complaint. When they reached the correct door, she knocked twice briskly, turned the handle and pushed the door ajar, then turned and walked away. Ron gulped nervously, then let himself in.

The office, if you could call it that, looked as though its original purpose had been that of a closet. There was no window, and Percy would have to turn sideways and shimmy along the wall to get past the side of his desk to sit behind it. His chair was practically pressed against the back wall, and Ron had maneuver the door shut carefully before he could get to the small wooden chair in front of his brother's desk. Percy himself had yet to look up, instead furiously copying over notes from an enormous stack on desktop in front of him. Finally, he set the parchment aside to dry, put his quil aside with a soft click and sat up straight, folding his hands together and giving Ron a calculating once-over.

"Good afternoon, Ronald. You are looking well. As you must know, I am a very busy man, so if you are here on behalf of Dumbledore or that lunatic Harry Potter, I must insist—"

"I'm not here for them," Ron cut in quickly, not sure how long he could keep his temper in check if his brother continued in that pompous tone of his. "I, um, I'm actually in a bit of a row with Harry at the moment. Fred, George, Ginny, and Charlie aren't talking much to me either." There, not a lie, and it might help get a little rapport built between them.

"I see. Sadly, I can't say that I'm surprised. I warned Arthur that the boy was unstable, Cornelius has been saying so for months now. Charlie is a disappointment, I admit, I had hoped he had more sense than that. I daresay the others may be a lost cause, however." Ron flinched at the cold distance in Percy's voice when he called their father by name, but quickly schooled his features into something more neutral.

"I wanted to ask you about that, actually. Dad told us about the row the two of you had earlier this summer. I know that's why none of us have heard from you in so long."

"I do not have to defend myself against Arthur's—"

"No, Percy, I just wanted to know if you could tell me your side of things. I… want to understand where you're coming from. No one back home will talk to me about it." Okay, so that was less honest, but a white lie at best. Percy looked skeptical, but answered anyway.

"It was more than a row, Ron. I regret to say I have been forced to sever ties with the Weasley family. I have worked very hard to climb this high in the ministry, and I have had to struggle against Arthur's lousy reputation the entire time. He has no ambition, and were it not for his deplorable work ethic and attitude towards the ministry, he might have provided a more adequate home-life to his family. What it really came down to, however, is his reckless insistence to follow blindly behind Dumbledore, and defending Potter's claims that You-Know-Who has returned. The headmaster is off his hinges, and Harry is either as crazy as he is, or an attention-seeking liar. Either way, a Weasley should have more sense and dignity than to associate with such people. No, I will not have my own reputation continually tarnished due to his poor life choices." Percy was nearly shouting by the end of his little speech, having grown more and more passionate as he went along. Ron, who had never heard such bitter, vicious tones from his brother, was struggling to maintain his composure.

"Is being a part of the family really damaging your career here that badly?" Ron asked, needing to hear the words from Percy himself. His brother's eyes softened, and he must have misinterpreted Ron's subdued demeanor as hurt feelings.

"It is not because of you that I have made the decision Ron. Indeed, if you have managed to see the light despite our parents' misguided brain-washing, I am here for you, with open arms. But to be honest, the kindest thing Arthur could do for me at this point would be to disown me entirely; at least that would publicly substantiate my true allegiance to the minister." Ron stood suddenly, wrenching the door open and using the moment to fight down his emotions.

"I'll ask him," Ron said, turning and looking at his brother one more time, desperate for any reason not to go forward with his plan. Percy just watched him nonchalantly. Ron felt a knot of miserable resignation settle in his stomach, and he carefully forced his voice to stay calm. "If that's what would make you happy, Percy, I'll ask dad to do it."

"Alright," Percy answered, already returning his attention to the work on his desk. "Do try to set up an appointment next time Ron. I am, after all, dreadfully busy." Ron watched his brother sadly, and when he replied it was hardly even a whisper.

"Yeah, I'll do that."


	26. Chapter 26

~ Chapter Twenty-Six ~

Ron squared his shoulders and walked purposefully into the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. The room was small (though after Percy's office it felt quite spacious) but still somehow managed to hold two desks, several filing cabinets, and a slew of muggle objects. Ron nodded to his father's assistant, Perkins, and then helped himself to one of the mismatched chairs in front of his father's desk. Arthur glanced up from where he was bent over his work at the sound of a visitor, then did a double-take and sat up in surprise.

"Ron! What on earth are you doing here?"

"Hey dad. Are you busy today?"

"I can make some time if need be. What's going on? How did you get out of headquarters?"

"Someone from the Order let me out, they brought me right to the visitor entrance, I wasn't wandering around alone. And before you ask, I won't tell you who it was. I understand if I'm grounded or whatever other punishment you think is appropriate, but this was my idea, and no one else should get in trouble for it." He said this all in one go, having to take a few deep breaths at the end to make up for it.

"We can deal with all of that later." He leaned forward and stared straight into his son's eyes. "Ron. Is something wrong?"

"IneedyoutodisownPercy," Ron mumbled in a rush.

"What?" Ron closed his eyes before repeating what he had said more slowly.

"I need you to disown Percy."

"WHAT?!" Yes, his father had definitely heard him that time.

"I'm not done yet," Ron said miserably.

"There's _more_?"

"If he'll agree to this, and it's really really important that he agrees to this, I… need you to disown Bill, as well." There wasn't a sound in the office for several long moments following this statement.

"Perkins, take the rest of the day off. Now, please." There was the sound of shuffling paper and then fading footsteps, but Ron never lifted his gaze from the small dent he was studying in his father's desk-top. "Would you like to tell me," Arthur hissed through gritted teeth once they were alone, "just what the bloody hell you are on about?"

"It's sort of a long story."

"I think you had better start explaining, then," Mr. Weasley answered dangerously.

"I need you to get Bill here first. And Charlie, actually."

"Is that all?" Arthur asked sarcastically, though some of the anger had been replaced by confusion. He certainly hadn't expected his son to request Bill of all people be present for this particular conversation, much less demand it.

"Please dad. I promise I'll explain everything. I wouldn't ask you something like this without a good reason." Whatever Mr. Weasley saw in his expression must have been pretty convincing, because after a few minutes watching his son quietly, he rose from his chair and swept out of his office.

"Stay," he ordered simply, poking his head back inside, then disappeared down the hallway.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned, and slumped down in his chair to wait.

XxXxXxXxX

Bill, Harry, and Charlie had spent the rest of the morning and better part of the afternoon at the burrow. They had raced around the make-shift quidditch pitch, shared stories of the mischief they had gotten into while at school, and now Harry was humming as he made a late lunch, the two red-heads engrossed in an overly competitive game of wizarding chess. Bill smirked as he put his little brother in check for the fourth time and tuned out the answering groans to watch Harry deftly mincing garlic, grating cheese, and neatly chopping up veggies for a salad. He whistled appreciatively after sending his queen to make a check-mate. Harry looked up at the sound.

"Where in Merlin did you learn to do all this?" Bill asked, gesturing vaguely around the kitchen at the word 'this,' as though braving the domain at all was an accomplishment in and of itself. "It smells amazing."

"I pretty much did all the cooking for the Durleys," Harry explained, going back to his work and missing the puzzled frown on Bill's face and the stormy glower from his bondmate. "Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, just about any sort of curry you could imagine… you know, I used to think about owning my own muggle restaurant some day, before I knew about Hogwarts I mean."

"You really never knew you were a wizard, then?" Bill asked quietly. He had heard a few stories from Ron, bits and pieces, but when pressed for details Ron had always said that Harry didn't like to talk about his home life much.

"I didn't know magic existed until Hagrid showed up on my eleventh birthday." They were all quiet then. Luckily, Harry had just finished dishing up plates and tucking in to the delicious meal was the perfect distraction.

"Galloping gargoyles, this might be better than mum's." Bill praised happily a while later.

"Don't tell her that!" Charlie warned with a chuckle.

"Seriously Harry, how are you so tiny? I would think you would be an enormous jolly fat man with this sort of luxury at your disposal growing up!" Harry didn't say anything, but Bill's smile faded when he saw the look that Charlie and the younger man exchanged. "What? What am I missing?" Harry bit his lip, clearly debating whether or not to answer. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"I didn't really get to eat the meals I made. I just cooked them for my aunt and uncle and cousin." It was easier to say out loud now. He had shared more about his childhood with Charlie throughout his stay at the reserve, only bits and pieces here and there, and he still pulled away and shut down entirely on a topic if pushed, but he had at least started sharing.

"Harry, can I ask you something?" Bill knew he was treading on dangerous territory, but he desperately wanted to understand the wizard who had captured his little brother's heart.

"You can ask. I may not answer," Harry answered cautiously, more than a little weary given the current conversation topic.

"Your cousin. He treated you pretty badly didn't he? When you were growing up?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. The night you cast the Patronus, Lupin put me in charge of questioning him after you and Moody left. He said that he was alone in the cemetery when the cold feeling started, that you weren't even close by. So you went after your cousin, knowing there were dementors, knowing you had no wand, when you could have just stayed put wherever you were." He waited for Harry's reaction, but when the boy didn't move or say anything he continued. "Then when the Order showed up, all dressed in black and faces hidden in our hoods, I'm willing to bet you thought we were death-eaters, just like that night with Cedric Diggory." Harry flinched at the memory, but didn't tell Bill to stop. "You told your cousin to stay hidden, then crawled away from him and stood up, handing yourself over to protect him. Why?"

Charlie looked between his brother and his bondmate, nearly holding his breath in anticipation. He and Harry had talked about a lot of things over the past week, but never about the night in the cemetery. He wouldn't let himself push Harry, but he was eager to hear more. As the seconds stretched into minutes, he started to wonder if Harry would answer at all, and then a quiet voice explained.

"The dementors, the death-eaters (if they had been real), they were there for me. They weren't going to leave after going after my cousin, they would just keep going until they found me. The choice was between me and my cousin dieing, or just me dieing. It wasn't like I was sacrificing anything for him, it just… made sense. I don't understand why everyone acts like it was such a big deal. And honestly," he continued before either of the Weasley's could interrupt. "Honestly, whatever else Dudley may have done, he isn't a part of this. Muggles have no way to protect themselves against magical attacks. He couldn't even see the dementors, did you know that? Even if I could have gotten away with hiding while they took my cousin, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself afterwards. I didn't grow up knowing I was magic and feeling entitled to my abilities. For the most part, I grew up as a muggle myself. I think if you have magic, if you have that power, it is your responsibility to protect those who don't from the people who want to use magic against them as a weapon."

Bill shivered as the small speech ended. He had felt it when Harry had preached at the Order meeting as well; a swell of emotion and power, as though even the air around them was listening.

"It's no wonder so many people are willing to follow you," he said quietly, and couldn't help but grin when Harry just looked at him puzzled. "You really have no idea what affect you have on people, do you? You—" All three wizards froze at the same time, the quietest squeak coming from the front door. They pulled out their wands and spun around as one, only to see a hassled looking Arthur hurry into the room.

"Dad?" "Mr. Weasley?"

"Oh thank Merlin you're here and not in Romania; I never would have found you."

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, always on edge when someone was desperate enough to search for the dragon reserve just to talk to him.

"Nothing. Well, nothing happened. I'm actually here because of Ron. He showed up at work and asked me to—something very odd. He said he would explain, but I had to get you two first." He nodded his head at his two eldest sons.

"It can't wait?" Bill asked, and he saw that Harry and Charlie looked just as puzzled as he felt.

"No, apparently not. Come on, I left him at the office. You'll need to take Harry back to headquarters before you floo in to the ministry." They all followed him over to the fireplace. "Oh and Harry, before I forget; make sure you get rid of that before Molly sees." He tapped a finger on his own neck pointedly, then disappeared into the flames with a _woosh_. Harry flushed and Charlie went deathly pale. Bill just roared with laughter and cast a quick charm at the hickey that would have the mark fading away within minutes.

"Come on you lot, let's not keep them waiting."

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie slouched in his chair uneasily, Bill across from him and his father and Ron to either side. They had pulled chairs into a little circle in the middle of the office, and so far had accomplished nothing more than sitting in awkward silence for several minutes.

"Well Ron, we're all here, as requested. The floor is yours." Arthur was clearly trying very hard to keep from letting anger seep into his voice, and the youngest Weasley son looked moments away from throwing up. Charlie and Bill were looking between them curiously, impatient to find out what was going on. Ron stood suddenly, moving to stand behind his chair and holding onto the back of it like a lifeline.

"Um… Thank you for coming. I, er… oh bugger it, I can't give the great speeches like Harry. Look. Harry asked me to figure out how to handle the Prophet, try to avoid as much negative back-lash about the bonding as possible." Arthur's eyebrows shot up, and Bill also looked surprised. Charlie, who already knew this, knit his brow and wondered why Ron was sharing that information now. "While I was looking into it, though, I realized that there was a lot more to the problem than just figuring out the best way to break the news so that people wouldn't hate Harry. First, Charlie and Harry could get arrested because Sirius is an outlaw and he would have had to give consent for Harry. Withholding information on the whereabouts of convicted felon means time in Azkaban." This time it was Arthur who looked unsurprised by the news, and Charlie growled at him.

"You thought about this and didn't say anything?"

"Dumbledore had people working on the issue, he thought the two of you had enough to worry about without—"

"Dumbledore thinks he can treat the world like a puppet show and we'll all just—"

"Both of you shut up. Malfoy may have already fixed it for us." That got everyone's attention.

"Malfoy?" His dad repeated incredulously.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, positively smirking at the irony. "Lucius Malfoy passed a law through the High Council during the first wizarding war that if the lord or heir to a family line was considered an outlaw by the Ministry, they and their family were granted a single twenty-four hour period of immunity in which to perform a bonding ceremony, as a way to protect the Old Families' power. If you could prove that a bonding was essential to safeguard bloodline holdings, then the temporary protection was recognized automatically. Everyone voting on the council would have known exactly why a lord or heir would be named an outlaw during that time, but it had to have been simple to convince the other purebloods to jump on board when there was reason to believe their own families would someday rely on such a law. They didn't want to be painted as death-eater supporters, so they kept it quiet and buried it in old records. I'm not even sure it's ever been used. But it will be on the books, and it will hold up against the Wizengamont."

"How do you know all that?" Bill asked, shaking his head in wonder.

"Sirius has been letting us use his brother's library. All's I've done since the last Order meeting is comb through books on wizarding law and bloodline magic. Some of them are hand-written from his brother or other family members over the years, and those have been the most helpful so far." Bill looked appeased, but Charlie could see that there were still details missing.

"Didn't you say that for the temporary immunity to count, you had to prove the bond was necessary to protect bloodline holdings? That doesn't apply to Harry and I then, does it?"

"It… could…" Ron said carefully, and he glanced fearfully from his father to Bill before taking a deep, bolstering breath and pilling a thin book from his pocket. "This is a book on the history of the Black family lineage. Listen."

He read the passage about heritage discrepancies out loud, and when he was met with only blank looks he sighed and sat back down while he explained.

"Dad's vote on the high council came through mum and the Prewett line after her cousins, Fabian and Gideon, died in the first war. Ignatius Prewett was their father, and was the last Lord Prewett. Ignatius was married to Lucretia Black. That means that right now, dad holds the power to challenge the Black Family Line for Head of House in her name, as he is the most recent legal heir to Lucretia Black. The only way for Harry, as the current heir to the Black line, to guarantee his position goes unchallenged would be to join Lucretia's heir under his own name and titles. If Harry bonded with the Weasley heir and they aligned themselves under the Potter-Black line, it would mean political security for Harry on his Black assets. That kind of safe-guarding would invoke Malfoy's law."

"My head hurts," Charlie muttered, but Bill and his father had obviously followed more of the explanation than he had, because they were both looking grim. Bill rubbed his hands over his face tiredly before he spoke, his voice carefully blank.

"So you're saying that if Charlie were heir, he and Harry couldn't be prosecuted for meeting with Sirius because Charlie became a Potter and that would secure Harry's hold on the Black Lordship?" Okay, Charlie could keep up that time, and a feeling dangerously close to panic started to bubble up in his chest.

"That's the basic idea, yeah," Ron agreed quietly, and Charlie decided it was time to step in.

"That's all really interesting Ron, but I'm not heir."

"You could be, though," Ron whispered, almost too quietly to be heard by the rest of the men in the room.

"What are you on about?" Charlie half-shouted, panic definitely settling in now. Ron and Bill were staring at each other, and both looked as though there had been a death in the family. His dad had stood up and turned his back on them, visibly shaking as he did something with his wand.

"Say it," Bill said softly after a few moments, still looking straight at Ron. The younger boy looked like he was about to cry, but he did as he was told anyway.

"If dad disowns you, then Charlie, being the next oldest, would automatically become heir. Bonds are magically recorded at the ministry, but not dates. As long as you were disowned before anyone notices that Harry and Charlie bonded, they can say it happened after Charlie had inherited the title, and the Ministry wouldn't be able to lay a finger on them."

"No," Charlie shouted wildly. "No!" His vision was blurring, and he hadn't noticed when he leapt from his chair or when he started crying in earnest. The next thing he knew there were arms around him and a steady heartbeat beneath his ear and Bill's soothing voice was whispering to him as he rocked them gently back and forth.

"Shhhh, it's okay Char. You need to calm down. Let's hear him out, okay? I'm not going to let anything happen to you, or Harry. Not if I can stop it. C'mon, take a deep breath." When Charlie had finally settled down enough to pull back and wipe his eyes, he saw that Ron was white and trembling, shiny tear-tracks drying on his cheeks. Bill kept one arm loosely over Charlie's shoulders, and Charlie wasn't sure who needed the comfort of the contact more just then, him or Bill. As Bill spoke to his baby brother, Charlie was blown away by the way his voice remained soft and steady even now.

"Walk me through this. I… think I understand what this would mean, but I want to hear it all, good and bad. I need to wrap my head around it." When Ron answered, his eyes stayed glued to the same spot near his feet, and he was completely expressionless. It was as though he was speaking on automatic, but his personality had been completely sucked out of it.

"Being disowned, fully and legally, would essentially mean you weren't a Weasley anymore. Obviously, you would no longer be in line for control over dad's money, property, or vote. You could keep the name, but it wouldn't be associated with our bloodline. You wouldn't be recognized by wards on Weasley properties; you wouldn't show up on an official family tree; you couldn't use the family crest on legal documents; you wouldn't even be able to attain legal proof of blood-status if you ever tried to wed into a pureblood family."

Charlie wanted to start crying again, but he felt Bill's arm shaking against the back of his neck, and forced himself to hold it together for his brother's sake. He was frustrated to see that his father was still distracted by whatever magic he was trying to cast.

"Why not just transfer the title to me? Isn't that what Sirius' ancestor did when he took the title from Lucretia in the first place?"

"It's not that simple. Ancient magic, the kind that's in bonds and bloodlines, you can't just tell it what to do. It has… not a mind, exactly, but it feels, it's sort of…alive, in a way. It's really hard to transfer a title. That's why no one knows what would have happened if Lucretia challenged to get Head of House back. Honestly, it's surprising that Arcturus was able to name Orion as heir in the first place, but the Black line is historically dark, and its magic probably more compatible to something so devious and underhanded. I really don't think that our family magic would let dad just skip over his eldest son."

"It won't," Arthur confirmed, finally turning back to face his sons and speaking for the first time since the idea was proposed.

"You don't know that!" Charlie argued frantically, desperate for some other solution. Taking heir away from Bill was atrocious, but it was an atrocious he could live with whereas seeing Bill disowned was an atrocious he didn't think he could bear.

"I do," their dad answered simply, his gray pallor the only thing giving away how distressed he was. "I just tried."

* * *

**Author note: **And now we start to see what Ron is thinking... do you guys hate me yet?

I just wanted to give everyone a head's up- the next chapter will be posted on Wednesday, right on schedule, but I leave for a family vacation the next morning and won't be able to post again until Tuesday or Wednesday next week.

Okay, NOW do you guys hate me? :P

As always, I really appreciate all the reviews! I especially love hearing what all of you think is going to happen next. Keep them coming!

-Emmette


	27. Chapter 27

~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~

Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, and Harry sat silently in the hallway outside of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room in Grimmauld Place, listening to Molly crying on the other side of the wall and the low murmur of Arthur's voice as he tried to calm her down. The only other sound was Ginny's occasional sniffle from where she sat in Bill's lap, arms around his neck and face hidden against his shoulder.

Arthur had called a family meeting as soon as he returned from the Ministry, and Harry had awkwardly hovered in the background after he was told in no uncertain terms that he _was_ family and he _would_ attend.

Not a single red-head had held back from crying while Ron and Bill took turns explaining and reassuring. Harry watched frozen from his place by the wall as family members traded off drying tears, rubbing backs, and simply moving to stand by each other in silent support. Fred stood with his hands on Ron's shoulders when his voice broke at one point, and Mrs. Weasley let Charlie wrap her in his arms and rock her back and forth. Whatever personal conflicts were going on outside of that moment seemed to cancel themselves out while the family was in crisis, and Harry didn't know how to be a part of any of it.

He hadn't understood why Arthur and Charlie just sat back and listened, as though they were actually considering agreeing to Bill being disowned. Then the explanation had finished and Harry had opened his mouth to refuse only to have Bill fix him with a piercing gaze and cut him off before he had even started.

"Harry and Charlie entered a life-long bond at the drop of a hat all to make sure that those around them stayed safe. I feel fortunate to be in the position now to _choose_ for _myself_ a _personal life-choice_ that will allow me to protect them in return." Harry had bitten his lip hard enough to fill his mouth with the coppery taste of his own blood. He knew he had no right to argue, not with the way Bill had phrased the situation, but on the inside he was protesting the whole plan with every fiber of his being.

He felt sick to his stomach now, looking around the hall at the somber faces of his friends… his family. Bill was going to let himself be disowned. The Weasleys were willingly tearing their family apart, and it was all part of some grand scheme to protect Harry. Suddenly, it was too much to handle and he jumped to his feet, turning and fleeing down the hall without a word.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry waited until the last possible moment to walk into the kitchen for the Order meeting the next day, Sirius glued to his side in silent support. He still hadn't been able to face the Weasleys, so he and Sirius had more or less bunkered down with Buckbeak for the past day.

_He hadn't realized he was searching for his Godfather until the man was looking at him startled as his bedroom door flew open, Harry not having bothered to knock. His vision blurred and his breath caught, and the next thing he knew he was sobbing into Sirius' arms, the other man strong and solid next to him, patiently waiting out the tears. It had felt wrong, somehow, to let himself cry in front of the Weasleys, not when they were the ones losing so much for his sake. With Sirius, though, it was safe._

_His godfather hadn't pushed for answers, even after Harry had calmed down. They took turns feeding the playful hippogriff, and Black seemed content to pass the day away in companionable silence. When Harry suddenly began talking—about Ron's idea, about his feelings for Charlie, about what had happened in Charlie's cabin—Sirius was just as content to listen. _

"_I think you're selling your friends short," Sirius told him quietly, when it appeared that Harry had finally run out of things to say._

"_What?"_

"_I know you want to protect the people you love, and that's a wonderful quality Harry, but don't you think the Weasleys deserve the same opportunity?"_

"_I wasn't… I didn't mean…"_

"_If the tables were turned—if you had the ability to keep one of them out of Azkaban by getting disowned from me, from your parents… would you do it?"_

"_Of course. I don't need the money or the Ministry documents to tell me we're family. Mum and dad loved me; Merlin, they died for me they loved me so much. And I know you'd still be my family no matter what any papers said." He blushed guiltily as Sirius just watched him, realizing what his godfather meant. "…And Bill knows all of his family will still love and support him, no matter what."_

"_And it's not just you he's protecting, Cub. Charlie is his little brother, he's keeping him safe too. I just wish I had thought all of this through before I came up with the idea. Blast it anyway, but Dumbledore will never let me live this down…"_

"_Sirius, can't Bill just say he doesn't want to be heir? Can't he just… turn it down?" The animagus smiled sadly._

"_You're young still, and I know you want to think there is a simple answer to everything if you just look hard enough, but there isn't a way to do it that I've found yet; and trust me Cub, I've looked."_

Harry thought about that conversation with his godfather as he looked into the kitchen. They were all there, a sea of red hair clustered around the head of the table. On one side, George and Ginny were each holding one of Bill's hands, Fred hugging Ginny from the next chair over. Across the table, Molly's eyes were red and puffy, and she pulled away when Arthur tried to comfort her. Arthur himself looked miserable but resolute, the very image of family strength in the face of hardship. Charlie, sitting between his father and the end of the table where Ron stood nervously, looked away from his parents with a pained expression and suddenly Harry had locked eyes with two deep pools of blue. He stood frozen in place as Charlie stood and made a beeline for him, unable to bring himself to look away.

"We need to talk," Charlie whispered for Harry's ears only once he had reached him.

"But the meeting—"

"We won't miss much, nothing we don't already know anyway. This can't wait." Harry was pulled out of the kitchen once more, trying to ignore the curious looks being thrown their way, and then they were standing nose to nose in a tiny alcove, Charlie throwing up a powerful silencing charm around them.

"Charlie I'm—" Lips crashed into his, and while there was the same heat and sense of safety that had been there the first time they kissed, there was also waves of anger, and Harry wasn't sure whether or not he was disappointed when the kiss was ended abruptly.

"Don't, Harry. Don't you dare apologize for any of this. Not every difficult decision that is made in this war needs to rest on your shoulders." Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie held a finger to his lips and kept going. "I'm not done yet. Ron has literally looked at every angle. He's hardly slept in the past three days. His plan is brilliant, and running away and hiding from it is as good as saying Ron has done something terrible by thinking of it." Harry's jaw snapped together with a dull crack. His stomach churned guiltily, and he had the sudden urge to smack the back of his own head for being such an idiot.

Charlie lay a hand on Harry's shoulder, and the younger man looked up to see that the red-head's eyes had softened.

"Bill wants to go through with this. It's brave, and noble, and he deserves to have us celebrate that."

"He wouldn't have to do it at all if it weren't for me."

"You're right. No, look at me. You're right, Bill is doing it because of you. Because that is how family works; you have each other's backs, you make sacrifices for one another, and you stand together through the good and the bad." He smiled at the look of confusion on Harry's face. "We're bonded now, Harry. Bill started seeing you as his brother-in-law the second he found out. If you really want to pay Bill back for what he's going to do, start by going back in there, head held high, and supporting your family."

"My… but I'm not…"

"You were at the family meeting, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm not… a Weasley."

"Neither am I." Harry's head snapped up at this, having forgotten for a moment that for all legal purposes, Charlie was now a Potter as well. Charlie just shrugged and kept talking. "Neither will Bill be once he's disowned, not a 'real' Weasley. It's just a word, Harry; words don't make a family."

"I shouldn't have run away like that."

"No, you shouldn't have. It's okay, you won't do it next time." He smiled at Harry, and the look of surprise on his young bondmate's face at being forgiven so easily.

"I won't do it next time," he agreed quietly, but with a fierce quality to his voice that told Charlie it wasn't a promise being made lightly.

"Good. Let's drop that then, I need to talk to you about something important; Ron had a chance to tell me a little about his ideas for the Prophet. He has a couple options, but one that he thinks will work best. It… would involve us telling the world that we're together. _Really_ together. The Order would know it was all a charade (or they would think it was, we both know things are a little more complicated than that now), but it would give us an excuse to act as a couple in public every now and then. Harry," he placed a hand gently on his bondmate's face, looking at him with guilt and concern. "I don't ever want to make you feel like I am ashamed to be with you or that I'm not serious about trying to build a relationship together. But I don't think mum can handle anything else right now, and I don't know how much the Order will take me seriously as your guardian if they know we've become… intimate… and I just… I'm scared that it would be too much pressure," he admitted softly. "I want to give us as much time as possible to figure this—whatever 'this' is—out. I don't want to screw it up."

Harry's heart was beating rapidly, and he shyly leaned forward and initiated a kiss for the first time. It was short and sweet, and when he pulled back he was smiling lightly.

"Whatever Ron thinks is our best option, let's go with that. I meant it when I said I trust him with this completely." Charlie visibly relaxed and he hugged Harry quickly before ending the silencing charm and leading him back towards the kitchen.

"You'll need to let him know you're okay with it, he said it was the only way he would present it to the Order. Hopefully we're getting back on time." Harry nodded, and then they had reached the kitchen.

Every face at the table snapped back to watch Harry as he opened the door. The room was utterly silent, and the young man somehow knew that whatever he did now, every detail would be analyzed and used by the others to decide how to react to Ron's idea. Ron himself was standing at the head of the table, holding the small book from earlier in one hand and a shrunken down image of the Black Family Tree tapestry in the other. He had stopped talking to watch Harry as well, a deep vulnerability in his eyes that told Harry Charlie had been absolutely correct when he said that Ron would think he was being blamed for coming up with this plan in the first place.

Harry purposefully kept his eyes locked with Ron's as walked past the rest of the table. When he got there, he hugged the red-head, whispering "Go with the first plan mate, I believe in you" before pulling away. He went around to the other side of the table, where Sirius had already joined the Weasleys and was now sitting with one hand on Fred's back in a gesture of comfort. Even his godfather had automatically banded together with his new in-laws, and Harry thought he had a lot of work to do to figure out this 'family' business properly. He tapped Ginny's shoulder, giving her the smallest of nudges in Fred's direction, and they, along with Sirius, scooted their chairs over. Harry picked up a small stool standing by the wall, and slid it between Ginny and Bill, right in the middle of the row of red-heads. He took over Ginny's role of holding Bill's hand. Bill squeezed back gratefully, and Ginny leaned her head on Harry's shoulder, all of them re-settling easily as though they had been waiting for Harry to join them the entire time.

He looked up and saw that Charlie was once again seated between Ron and his father, and he was smiling warmly. Arthur caught his eye, and he was smiling as well, lip trembling suspiciously as he mouthed the words "thank you" across the table. Harry nodded.

"Sorry for interrupting," he said quietly, but it carried through the silent room and seemed to break the spell. Chairs scraped against the floor as people re-adjusted, there were a few quiet murmurs, and Ron shook himself out of his thoughts, remembering that he was supposed to be presenting to the Order. Dumbledore cleared his throat from down the table, Harry noticing his presence for the first time, and gave Ron a verbal nudge.

"You were saying that it would be best if the public was given some plausible reason as to why Arthur suddenly disowned his eldest son."

"Right. I uh, have an idea about that actually. Um, Professor Snape?" Severus slowly raised a single disdainful eyebrow, obviously less than impressed with being called out by the young Weasley.

"Yes?" He drawled.

"I know that you have to slip some information on the Order to You-Know-Who as part of your guise as a spy…"

"And how, pray tell, do you know that?" The potions master's voice was dangerously low, and Ron, if possible, turned an even lighter shade of white. Luckily, Dumbledore stepped in once more.

"Severus, perhaps this is not the time to discuss it? Mr. Weasley, you were saying?"

"Er, I just needed to know if Snape has told You-Know-Who that Bill is in the Order."

"Because your mean, nasty professor is out to get you and your family, is that it?" Snape snarled, and Ron huffed in annoyance.

"No, because it could be dangerous for you if Bill has a public row with dad about being Dumbledore's puppet, and Voldie knows Bill is part of the Order. It would obviously be a set-up, and he would want to know why you hadn't warned him about it." Snape, for once, actually appeared to be at a loss for words. Eventually he settled for a simple,

"No, I have not told him."

"Being at Gringotts gives Bill the opportunity to gather information that could be very important to the Order. I felt it best not to compromise his ability to spy for us," Dumbledore explained.

"That's what I figured. But the whole wizarding world knows that dad's the biggest muggle-lover there is. And I'm betting no one has been daft enough to say anything terribly important around Bill knowing how loyal dad is to you." Dumbledore did not confirm the presumption, but his silence was validation enough for Ron. "I thought so. If Bill and dad have it out about Harry and Dumbledore—about them being crazy and power hungry and all that rubbish that's been in the Prophet all summer—that could be a believable reason for dad to disown him. It would also mean that Bill might be able to start gathering more useful intel."

There was a great deal of muttering and nodding from the table, and Harry almost missed when Mr. Weasley suddenly gasped and snapped his head up to stare at Ron with trepidation. Ron, though, had already been watching his father and simply hung his head in response. Harry wasn't the only one to notice the exchange.

"Was there something else you needed to add, my boy?" Dumbledore asked quietly, and immediately the room fell silent once more.

"There's… a catch to the plan. If dad is disowning Bill for turning on Dumbledore, if he says he's trying to teach the rest of us about loyalty and where our allegiance should be… no one is going to buy it if he doesn't disown Percy as well." Mrs. Weasley was on her feet in a flash.

"Absolutely not! Ronald Weasley, how could you even suggest it? Bill was bad enough, but if he is determined to go through with this it doesn't seem I have a say in the matter. Percy wouldn't understand! He'd think we were actually cutting him off! He—"

"He wants dad to disown him!" Ron shouted angrily, and Harry could see his hands were shaking where they were fisted at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

"How could say something like that?" Molly thundered, and Ron actually had to look away before he would answer.

"Because I went to see him yesterday, and he told me." For a few moments, no one spoke or moved. Then, in a voice so raw it was nearly unbearable to listen to, Arthur questioned,

"What exactly did he say?" Ron looked like he would rather do anything else in the world than what his father had asked, but Mr. Weasley was watching him expectantly, and he finally answered.

"He said… he said that your reputation was holding him back, that… that the reason we didn't have more money growing up was because of your… your 'deplorable work ethic and attitude towards the ministry.' He…" Ron licked his lips nervously. "He said that the best thing you could do for him now would be to cut him off entirely, because at least it 'would publicly substantiate his true allegiance to the minister.' I told him I'd ask you to do it." Ron sounded miserable as he recounted his conversation with Percy, his voice changing slightly to indicate when he was quoting his brother. Harry's gut twisted when he saw Mr. Weasley's shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Bill looked on the edge of tears himself, though Charlie, Ginny, and the twins looked more furious than anything else.

"He didn't mean it!" Mrs. Weasley cried out suddenly, her eyes red and wild as she clutched desperately for some sort of explanation. "You misunderstood him. And what were you doing going there anyway? You had no right! You're not disowning my Percy!" She wailed, turning on her husband. "Not my good little boy, not him!"

Harry saw that the rest of the Weasleys were at a loss for what to say to her, and he looked around frantically, trying to think of something to do. She suddenly turned on him, catching his movement from the corner of her eye.

"You! You dragged my family into this mess. If you had just bonded to Ginny like we planned, none of this would be happening!" Harry froze, and in a flash Charlie, Fred, George, and Sirius had all leapt to their feet, wands drawn. Before they could say or do anything, though, Ron had stepped right in front of his mother, pulling her attention away from Harry.

"That's a load of dragon dung, and you know it! If Harry had bonded to Ginny, then it would be those two that would be set for Azkaban, and dad would have to disown six sons instead of two to protect them!" He looked ready to say more, but a streak of sparks suddenly flared between him and his mother, and the Potters and Weasleys all looked around in alarm to see Dumbledore standing and pointing his wand at their end of the table.

"Molly, I understand this is an emotional time for you and your family, but I must insist that you either calm down, or leave if you are unable to do so. Ron told us that he had an idea for how to deal with the Prophet, and given his thorough, in-depth approach thus far, I would very much like to hear it." Not one to argue with the headmaster, Molly reluctantly sank back down into her chair, still sniffling every so often, but otherwise remaining quiet. Ron had lost his tearful pallor, and now looked only determined. He took a deep breath, seeming to gather his thoughts, then squared his shoulders and began speaking briskly and confidently.

"I want to help Harry avoid as much harassment and persecution as possible. More importantly, though, I want to give Voldie a reason as to why Harry bonded at fourteen in the first place. The longer we keep him from knowing Harry has come into his full power, the better off we are. The element of surprise is always an advantage. That, and people are going to be wondering what Charlie got out of all of this as well."

"And you have answer to all of that?" Sirius asked, eyes sparkling with amusement at the tiny little general that was standing where a timid almost-fifth-year had been moments before.

"Yes, I do. Last year, when Skeeter was covering the tournament, she had the public bouncing between loving and hating Harry with every other article. The only time they seemed to take his side unwaveringly was when they thought he was with Hermione." There was a moody huff from down the table, and Harry glanced down with a grin to see his friend looking just as annoyed as she had when the article first came out. "They would have forgiven Harry for murder if they thought he did it in the name of love," Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

"So let's give them a tragic romance, enough to distract from all the other details, all the other charades and half-truths" Charlie jumped in, eyes bright and an impish grin on his face. "After I became heir, Harry realized we could safely get Sirius Black to bond us and then we would be able to bring our hidden love into the open, instead of continuing to hide it until he came of age." Harry's eyes widened in alarm before he caught on to what Charlie was doing, and then he was grinning as well.

"The Prophet bought all the crap that Skeeter printed during the tournament. My eyes swimming with the ghosts of my past… forced to grow up beyond my years… and with all the pressure of the tournament, who could blame me for turning to the strong dragon tamer for comfort?"

"And how could I not fall for the brave little seeker I met while helping with the first task? I was a Gryffindor seeker myself you know, it was just so easy to start talking and find things in common."

"It would make perfect sense," Ron butted in. "They couldn't just start dating out in the open. Imagine how people would react? What with the age difference, and both of them being blokes… Why, they might even have a family member or two react a little hastily and take a swing at them." He blushed and shot Harry an apologetic look. "But if they ran off and eloped, there wouldn't be anything that anyone could do about it. Traditional bonds last a lifetime, you know." Charlie laughed suddenly.

"Just imagine how the young witches will swoon over the pictures of Harry and I, clasping wand hands and gazing into each other's eyes on the marriage announcement we post in the Prophet." The rumble of muttering around the table was starting to grow as everyone began discussing this bold move.

"It's a risky plan, my boy," Dumbledore said, as always bringing the side conversations down to a whisper merely by speaking. Though his words sounded uncertain, he looked thoughtful. "Daily Prophet writers are not known for their cooperation or honestly, as I'm sure you have noticed."

"Well…" Ron said, looking down the table to meet eyes with Hermione, and smirking broadly. Suddenly she covered her mouth and began to giggle, nodding emphatically.

"Out with it boy," Moody spoke up, clearly impatient to hear what the secret was.

"I think, given the option between writing the story of the Potter betrothal as we wanted it printed and having her illegal animagus form revealed, Rita Skeeter could actually be very cooperative." This time, the kitchen exploded with talking, speculation, and strategizing. Ron and Hermione were both immediately surrounded by Order members wanting to know where they got their information. Amidst all the commotion, however, Harry could have sworn he heard Snape grumbling,

"Oh lovely, another one," under his breath as he glared at Sirius.


	28. Chapter 28

~ Chapter Twenty-Eight ~

It was Wednesday, and Bill paced back and forth in an alleyway near the Ministry. It was too early for him to go storming inside, but he hadn't been able to stand waiting at headquarters any longer.

Fred and George were taking turns holding Ginny while she cried and blocking her hexes and curses when she started firing them off at random out of frustration. From the stray stinging hex that made it past the twins, Bill could attest that his baby sister was going to make quite a formidable witch someday. He almost pitied the bloke that captured her heart someday.

Mrs. Weasley had been having melt-downs all morning, and try as Remus and Hermione might to distract her, she inevitably wound up sobbing into Bill's shoulder, and that just wasn't something he could handle this morning.

Actually, Ron and Harry had been the best company. Ron was wearing what Harry had dubbed his 'battle face,' and was calmly and patiently walking Bill through the plan over and over again. Harry, bless his heart, had spent the morning running interference with the rest of the family while helping Bill sneak into empty rooms, then joining him to talk about nothing more important than broomstick care or cute blokes at Hogwarts. This last Bill was sure he was just pulling out of his ass to watch Ron squirm, but either way it had the desired effect of keeping Bill distracted while not requiring him to contribute to the conversation.

Eventually, though, his entire family had begun checking the time repeatedly and then glancing at Bill guiltily every time they did so. He felt like they were all waiting for him to walk to the gallows, and had finally gotten Harry to make a distraction while he slipped out the front door.

Even knowing it was pointless, bill couldn't quite help but check the time himself. Wednesdays Fudge did rounds of the Ministry, stopping by each department to 'make his presence known' (or reinforce his corrupt tyranny, depending on who you asked). Most of his cabinet joined him, and more often than not Percy would be trailing behind and taking notes. Today, Kingsley would slip out after Fudge had done his 'inspection' of the auror department, and come out to find Charlie. The hope was that the minister would arrive at the Misuse of Magical Artifacts office while Bill and Arthur were right in the thick of things.

Bill had just started pacing again when he heard footsteps quickly approaching his hiding place and Shcklebolt came into view around the corner. Bill wondered briefly if he was going to be sick.

"It is time," the deep voice announced solemnly, and Bill managed a jerky nod in reply. "Your brother is with the minister today," he warned quietly, then returned to his firm discourse. "You will want to be as dramatic as possible as you make your way through the atrium. Forego your wand check—it will bring security after you and draw a larger crowd." Ron, of course, had gone over all of this with him repeatedly, but Bill let Kingsley talk, grateful for even the slight delay. "I'll be along shortly; it wouldn't do for us to be seen coming in together."

As Bill rode in the phone booth down to the ministry, he focused on controlling his breathing and rubbed his right arm. There, hidden underneath his robes, was a band of cloth with the Weasley family crest emblazoned on it. His dad had brought it to him and personally tied it on that morning.

"Once a Weasley, always a Weasley," Bill whispered to himself, repeating his father's words form earlier. By the time the door slid open to the atrium, Bill was cool and collected, storming into the throng of wizards with a grim set to his mouth and sharp glint in his eyes.

XxXxXxXxX

Arthur jumped and looked up form where he was pretending to work as the door to his office slammed open and a furious red-head strode immediately into the room.

"When were you planning on telling me?" Bill demanded.

"I don't know what—"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about: Harry Potter! Staying at the house!"

"Bill, lower your voice. I will not be spoken to in this way."

"I WILL NOT LOWER MY VOICE! You know how I feel about him. He's dangerous! I don't want him around this family."

Wizards and witches were gathering curiously in the hallway, and a wheezing security guard had just arrived, bringing along even more spectators in his wake. So far, so good.

"And _I_ have told _you_ how _I_ feel about him. Dumbledore believes him about You-Know-Who returning, and if he says it's true, than I believe it too." Arthur was standing now as well, facing off angrily with his son. He saw over Bill's shoulder where the minister was just now pushing his way to the front of the crowd, Percy following wide-eyed in his wake. He carefully caught Bill's eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod, the cue that it was time to step things up.

"Of course you believe it! Arthur Weasley, Dumledore's personal puppet," Bill snarled. He knew, logically, that it was all a scam and that nothing he said was coming as a shock to his father, but as the older man feigned disbelief and injury, Bill felt his gut twist in shame.

"You will speak to me with more respect!"

"Then give me a reason to respect you! Stop forcing reckless, unfounded beliefs onto your children!"

"I haven't forced anything on anyone! Your brothers and sister all see for themselves that their loyalty is best placed in the headmaster's hands."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Percy suddenly cut in from behind them, and Bill winced. True, it was exactly what they had been hoping for; Percy jumping in to prove his allegiance to Fudge. Still, Bill could only imagine how painful it was going to be for his father to listen to Percy's words and know that they were entirely sincere.

"Stay out of this, Percy!" Arthur thundered, and Bill wondered how much of his father was goading him on as he was supposed to, and how much honestly hoped the younger man would just stay out of it. Unable to stop himself, bill turned to his brother and his heart sank at the disdainful dismissal on his face.

"Afraid to face the truth, Arthur? Ronald came to see me the other day. Did he tell you? He wanted to hear my opinions, said he wasn't speaking to Potter at the moment, and no one at home would let him talk about the _true_ side of matters."

"You see?" Bill cut in, not sure how much longer he could listen to the condescending sneer in Percy's voice. "Even your youngest son can see that the Prophet has had it right all along; Dumbledore is a lying, scheming, power-hungry old coot, and he's probably taking advantage of Potter's instability to manipulate him into making up these far-fetched stories!" Unfortunately Percy butted in again before Arthur could respond.

"A man of honor and integrity who _truly_ cared about his family would want to protect them from a crazed maniac, not cater to his every whim."

"I AM PROTECTING THEM FROM A CRAZED MANIAC! I'M PROTECTING THEM FROM YOU-KNOW-WHO!"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named IS. NOT. BACK." With the wild glow to his eyes, Percy was doing a rather apt impression of a crazed maniac himself, and Bill almost shuddered, wondering what had happened to his sweet, intellectual little brother.

"Dumbledore says he is, and this family stands by Dumbledore!"

"Then clearly, I should not be a part of this family!" You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed before Arthur whispered hoarsely.

"Is this how you feel as well Bill?" His gaze was boring into Bill's, and the latter knew that his father was giving him one last chance to back out. Numbly, deliberately, he nodded.

His father pulled himself to his full height, face terribly ashen.

"Very well."

Mr. Weasley held his wand straight out in front of him, and the crowd gasped as they saw his family crest hanging there as though cast in vapor.

"William, Percival, I hereby banish you forever from the Weasley Family." The pain on his face was heart-wrenching, and Bill made himself watch that rather than the lines of light that had appeared suddenly between he and Percy and the floating crest, reminding himself that his father would never have done this if he hadn't asked him to. The light was slowly pulling away from them and fading back into the emblem, permanently severing them from the bloodline. He realized he had been expecting something more dramatic; intricate spellwork or some flash and flare to the moment. The simplicity of it all almost made it more difficult to endure.

The moment the spell ended, Arthur shoved past his sons and out of the office, the on-lookers parting silently to let him through. Bill felt a hand on his shoulder and looked around in surprise to find Percy standing next to him, offering what he probably believed was a supportive look.

"Nasty business, that. Still, it all worked out for the best. We are much better off out from under Arthur's deplorable reputation." Luckily, they were interrupted before Bill had to come up with an answer.

"Percy, William, allow me to offer my sincerest sympathies at your unfortunate circumstances. I commend you for breaking away from such a poisonous influence; you will set an example for many. You should be very proud of yourselves."

"Thank you minister!" Percy all but gushed, chest puffing out with pride at Fudge's praise. Bill concentrated on not puking.

"Please, join me for tea. I daresay the rest of the building can wait an hour for me to finish my rounds." The man was nearly vibrating with excitement, and Bill found his enthusiasm at the situation sickening. However, he was still a member of the Order and personal feelings would have to be pushed aside if it meant even the slightest chance at an 'in' with Fudge.

"I would be honored, minister," he replied with a stiff bow. "Please, call me Bill." Percy beamed at him and Bill allowed himself to be led from the room.

XxXxXxXxX

After the third mild stinging jinx and the second bat-bogey hex (those not mild in the slightest) that Harry had intercepted during one of Ginny's tantrums, he had chosen a book on defensive magic and retreated to kitchen, for once remarkably empty. With everything else going on, he had not found time to request a visit from Madame Pomfrey, and therefore was not cleared yet to use magic. Defenseless against Ginny's flying curses, he thought it best to simply distance himself from the emotional girl for the time being.

Harry had been sitting there for nearly an hour, and was at this point engrossed in the book so thoroughly that he did not even notice when someone entered the room. Only when a chair scraped backwards over the stone floor and there was suddenly a body slumped down a few chairs away from him did he look up.

"Mr. Weasley!" The man was pallid and unresponsive, and for a one panicked moment Harry wondered if he had been poisoned. Then guarded eyes rose to meet his, and the man spoke in an utterly expressionless tone, one so blank and broken that Harry almost considered covering his ears and fleeing from it. As soon as this thought occurred, his promise to Charlie floated to the front of his mind. _I won't run next time. _Harry sat still and let Arthur's words wash over him.

"What am I doing in the Order Harry? In this war? I'm a tinkerer, not a soldier. I've spent my life raising my children and taking apart muggle contraptions so that I can put them back together again. I thought if I tried hard enough, fought long enough, that I could keep my family safe. But today, I was the one ripping it apart. So what's the point? What the _hell_ is the point to any of this?" Harry flinched when Mr. Weasley's fist slammed into the table-top at the word 'hell,' and again as he recognized the strong scent of whiskey on the man's breath.

Uncle Vernon had always been at his cruelest after a few drinks.

Harry grit his teeth and shoved all memories of his uncle out of his mind. Mr. Weasley was not Vernon Dursley, and Harry could hardly hold it against the man if he had indulged in a little alcohol after what he had been forced to do that morning. Unfortunately, the silence while he sorted through all of these thoughts was not what Arthur had been looking for.

"Say something! Give one of your speeches that makes it feel like there's hope as long as you're there to lead us. You're supposed to be the strong one!" He jumped to his feet and flung the chair beside him onto the floor between the two of them, the wooden spokes along the back splintering in a few places. Harry jumped at the crash, and felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest. Mr. Weasley hung his head after the outburst, his voice back down to a broken murmur. "You're always the strong one."

"I… I'll get you some water," he managed to say shakily, desperate to step away for just a moment, just long enough to stamp down the swelling panic and gather his thoughts. After a few deep breaths and a quick sip of water for his suddenly dry throat, Harry returned with the glass and carefully pressed it into Mr. Weasley's palm. The man hadn't moved since Harry left, and was now looking at the glass in his hand like he had no idea how it had gotten there.

"Why'd he do it?"

"Why'd… who…?"

"Bill! Why'd he let me do it? I asked him if he was sure, I gave him an out… He was standing there, in front of all those people, and holding it together so perfectly… but I could see it in his eyes; I could see the terror. And he just nodded, and I h-had to… _my boy_…" His last words were more of an anguished cry than anything else, and unbidden the memory of Amos Diggory draping himself over Cedric's body after the final task flooded Harry's mind. He had been having nightmares and visions the past three nights, stuck at Grimmauld Place without Charlie. He was exhausted and under stress, and suddenly having a hard time separating past from present.

"He's not dead, Bill's not dead," Harry told himself, not realizing he had spoken the words out loud.

"I know he's not dead! Don't you think I know my own son isn't dead?" There was a sound like an explosion as Mr. Weasley suddenly hurled the glass at the floor, and Harry gasped and recoiled when strong hands landed on his shoulders. Mr. Weasley was mere inches from him, and there were tears welling up in his eyes. "And Merlin's beard, why won't you stop flinching?!"

"I-I'm sorry, I k-keep thinking you're going to hit me," Harry stuttered, beyond capable of doing anything but answering honestly.

Arthur let go of him and stepped back so fast it was as if he had been burned. A look of horror was slowly dawning on his face, and the blank gaze that had covered his eyes since his return to headquarters was finally gone.

"Shite. Harry—"

"It's okay," Harry cut him off quickly. "I know you're hurting. And you're hurting because your family all love each other so much. And _that's_ why you're in the Order. That's why you're fighting this war. Because the people on the other side, they don't know how to love like that. They wouldn't make the sacrifice like Bill did; they wouldn't let Ginny hex them all day and then hold her when she cried because that's just how she was dealing with the pain; they wouldn't have been willing to throw all the plans and preparation out the window at the last moment because they saw Bill was scared." He was nearly tripping over his words, but Mr. Weasley still looked like he was trying to cut in and Harry needed to say this. "Don't fight because you're a soldier; you're not a soldier. Fight because you're a father. Fight because if everyone stops loving the way your family loves, then there really isn't a point to any of this."

A silence hung over them after Harry finished, and he had to look away from the raw emotions flashing across Arthur's face. Finally, the other wizard responded softly.

"Thank you, Harry." He nodded stiffly, wanting nothing more than to flee but still unwilling to run away after his promise to Charlie. "Why don't you go ahead, I'll stay and clean this up." Harry still hesitated, glancing at Mr. Weasley for a sign that he was really okay with Harry leaving. The red-head attempted a tired smile. "It's alright Harry, I could use some time alone to think." This time, Harry slowly walked towards the door and, after one last glance over his shoulder, quietly left the room.

Arthur surveyed the damage around him: overturned chair (slightly busted), shards of shattered glass, water spattered over the floor and part-way up one wall. He sank down tiredly onto a nearby stool and folded his hands in his lap as they began to shake. _I k-keep thinking you're going to hit me. _He closed his eyes, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

XxXxXxXxX

When Charlie knocked and poked his head into the room a couple of hours later, Harry felt a wave of tension slide off his back. He smiled, automatically scooting over on the bed where he sat reading and allowing the red-head to join him, both of them leaning back against the head-board, shoulders bumping together companionably.

"Is it time to do the interview already?" Harry asked nervously.

"Not yet, we still have an hour or so before we need to head to the Burrow and make sure our security detail is all set up and properly hidden." Harry rolled his eyes. He understood Dumbledore's concern, given that Hermione was going to tell Rita flat out that she would be interviewing Harry. Their black-mail was solid, but there was always the chance that Skeeter would blab anyway. Besides, Bill and Mr. Weasley were using Harry's stay at the Burrow as the reason behind their fight at the Ministry. They needed to be prepared if a mob of death-eaters suddenly attacked the Burrow.

"Why are you here so early?" Harry asked next. He knew Charlie was missing a lot of work because of him, and he had overheard Bill and Mr. Weasley talking a few days back and saying that Charlie had been away from Romania more in the past few weeks than he had in the previous two years combined. It was part of the reason he had agreed so readily when Charlie suggested he return to the reserve alone after the last Order meeting. Harry knew that his bondmate was uncomfortable with Pavel being so close to Harry after _that night_, and that he was determined to take things slow between them, but Harry also thought it would be good for him to actually be a dragon tamer again, instead of an accident-prone fourteen-year-old's keeper.

"I thought it would give us time to go over our story one more time. And I missed you," he added with a soft smile, causing Harry to blush, though he did smile in return. Then Charlie squirmed suddenly, looking as guilty as a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "I've actually been here for a while… dad pulled me aside when I got here, to talk about what happened earlier…" Immediately, Harry turned his head away. He really wasn't sure he wanted to talk about the scene in the kitchen just yet.

"Harry, look at me… please?" Reluctantly, the younger man turned his head back just enough to meet Charlie's eyes, his own weary and guarded. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Harry…"

"I'm okay, really. I knew he wasn't going to hurt me." Charlie gave him a disbelieving look.

"Funny, because it sounds like dad wasn't at all convinced that you did know that." Harry turned away again, his words slightly muted as he answered with his back towards Charlie.

"No, I knew… the logical parts of me knew, anyway. Your dad would never hurt anyone just because he was hurting. It was just hard to keep all my thoughts straight since he—" Harry cut himself off abruptly. When it became clear to Charlie that the younger man had no intention of continuing, he made a guess.

"Since he had been drinking?" Reluctantly, Harry nodded. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, and Harry could just imagine how Charlie must be reacting; annoyed, exasperated, disappointed… With a great deal of trepidation, harry forced himself to turn back and look at his bondmate. His heart lurched at the shattered, guilt-ridden expression on the red-head's face.

"Charlie?" He asked, voice laden with concern.

"That night, when I… I had been drinking, and… were you scared of me when I was…? Did you think I was going to hurt you?" Harry quickly connected the dots and gasped when he realized what Charlie was thinking.

"NO!" He practically shouted, grabbing the other man's shoulders and forcing him to turn towards Harry, meeting his eyes. "I was never scared of you Charlie, it never even crossed my mind. I felt guilty, like I was taking advantage of you, but every other feeling I had that night was _very_ positive, I promise." Charlie looked like he wanted to believe him, but was still uncertain.

"Why? What was different?" Harry actually had to stop and think about that, and was a little troubled that he couldn't really say for sure.

"I guess… your dad was upset, that didn't help. And I was already tired and edgy, and… well, that night in Romania, it was _you_…" He flushed a little, and then looked up when he felt calloused fingers gently brushing his bangs off his forehead before trailing affectionately down the side of his face, as though trying to memorize its shape.

"I'm glad you're okay," was all Charlie said, and Harry found himself relaxing fully for the first time in days.

"I didn't run away this time," he whispered tiredly, letting his eyes fall shut as he enjoyed Charlie's soft touches. The hand froze for just a moment, then carefully resumed the slow, relaxed caresses on Harry's cheek and neck.

"What?"

"In the kitchen, with your dad. I didn't run away. I stayed. I had his back, just like I promised." Harry felt himself being pulled sideways until his head was resting on Charlie's shoulder, the older man holding him and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, not trying to do anything more than offer silent support.

"I know, baby. I know."

XxXxXxXxX

Severus Snape had seen many strange things in his visits to Grimmauld Place since it (much to his annoyance) became headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. The scene he walked in on that afternoon, however, definitely took first place.

He leaned silently against the kitchen doorframe and watched as Arthur Weasley and Sirius Black methodically emptied every last liquor bottle from the Black family stores down the sink, magically shrinking each bottle when they had finished and tossing it into a sack by their feet. A rather full sack, Snape noticed, especially given the miniature state of the bottles within.

"Nothing better to do than spy on little ol' me, Snivellus?" Black said suddenly, breaking the silence. Arthur looked up surprised, though Black did not even pause in his work. In fact, Severus had no idea how he had even noticed him standing there. Still, never one to be caught unawares, he kept his expression blank and stood languidly, lazily making his way into the room.

"Not likely," he sneered in return to the animagus' jibe. "That would require there to be something worth seeing. Not a very interesting life you lead here, Black; hiding away in your mother's house while the rest of us risk our lives to do something _useful_." It wasn't his strongest come-back, he could admit that, but it was certainly sufficient and left him ample mind-power to focus the majority of his attention on studying Black's red-headed companion.

Arthur looked haggard, to say the least, but the fact that he was standing and apparently functioning as a normal human being told Snape that he was holding himself together far better than the potion's master had predicted. Although he would deny it until he was blue in the face, he had found himself slipping a few vials each of a his strongest calming draught and the draught of peace (to relieve anxiety and agitation) into his robes before visiting headquarters to deliver Hogwarts letters to Potter and the Weasley brats (a task he most certainly did not volunteer for with the sole purpose of putting himself in headquarters after Arthur disowned his sons, thank you very much).

To his surprise, Black did not rise to the bait and instead settled for scowling darkly in his direction only briefly, and then deftly choosing another bottle from the collection on the table to uncork and tip over the sink. He waited until the animagus had turned his back before setting two small, hand-labeled phials quietly on the table within reach of Arthur. He managed to shrug elegantly at the look of curious surprise he got in return, Mr. Weasley quickly picking them up and reading the labels. Taking his cue from Snape, Arthur simply nodded his thanks and slipped the potions into his robes without a word.

Snape pointedly turned away, just catching the label on the next bottle Black had reached for. Without thinking he hissed angrily and half-dove across the table to catch the other end of the bottle in his hand.

"Are you mad, Black? That is a bottle of Spanish Red Currant Fire-Rum from the 1600s! Unopened! Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

"Nope. Want it?" Severus snatched his hand back immediately, actually embarrassed by how strongly he had reacted. Yes, he most definitely _did_ want it, but he wasn't about to admit it to Black just to watch the man tauntingly dump it out in front of him out of spite, was he?

Sirius waited a moment for Snape's answer, then shrugged and pointed his wand at the top to open it.

"I want it!" Severus heard the words leaving his lips before he had even processed that he was about to say them. To his utter shock, Black immediately tossed him the bottle and grabbed another one off the table, opening and dumping it instead, back to ignoring his uninvited visitor.

Snape caught the bottle purely out of instinct, and blinked down at it bewildered.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" He asked as way of a thank you. It was the best he could do, given that it would have been Sirius Black he was thanking. The animagus, unsurprisingly, continued to ignore him. Thankfully Arthur, who was once again assisting Black in their macabre little dance of emptying liquor bottles, answered for him.

"Headquarters is going sober," he announced, and Snape did not even bother to hide the way his eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"And why, pray tell, is that?" He drawled, forcing his voice to sound bored and uninterested, but truly curious about the strange, and sudden, decision. Arthur and Sirius exchanged a meaningful glance, but neither man answered this time, and Snape dropped it, not wanting to sound too interested.

He watched transfixed as amber, brown, gold, clear, and many other colors of spirits poured out down the sink. He had been eyeing an ancient bottle of Ogden's Best Fire Whiskey when Moody poked his head into the room and told them that Harry and Charlie were about to leave for the burrow. Both Sirius and Arthur stopped what they were doing to go see the young men off.

Just before he let the door swing shut behind him, Black called over his shoulder.

"You can have the Whiskey, Snivellus; just keep it out of my house." Snape scowled. The damn mutt had actually made him jump.


	29. Chapter 29

~ Chapter Twenty-Nine ~

**BOY-WHO-LIVED TAKES BONDMATE****: ****INTRODUCING MR. AND… MR. POTTER?**

**In a shocking move yesterday afternoon, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and recent winner of the Triwizard Tournament, eloped with the newly-named heir of the Weasley Family. Charles Potter (née Weasley) inherited the title just that morning after Lord Weasley disowned his eldest son William and third child Percival in a shockingly public display at the Ministry of Magic.**

"**It's a relief, honestly," says Percy. "Arthur's reputation has been nothing but a drain on my potential since I started working at the Ministry. I am all for bloodline loyalty, but when your head of family puts the whims of power-hungry old men and delusional teenagers above the well-being of his wife and children, one must know when to draw the line." Percy is no doubt referring to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter himself. Lord Weasley's loyalty to the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was reportedly the subject of the rift that caused yesterday's disownment. Elder brother Bill was unavailable for questioning.**

**Having followed Lord (Harry) Potter through the trials and tribulations of the Triwizard Tournament last year, I, as I am sure is the case with many of my loyal readers, was rather shocked to find him bonded to another man. This is what Lord Potter had to say on the subject: "When I met Charlie last year, I never expected my feelings would develop like this, much less that he would feel the same way. He was one of the dragon tamers stationed at Hogwarts during the first task, and I was introduced through my best mate, Ron." Ronald Weasley is Lord Weasley's sixth child and youngest son. "Charlie was a source of strength and comfort during a very challenging phase of my life. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized my feelings were… beyond platonic. We connected on a level I had never experienced before, and it was beautiful. Something as trivial as his gender hardly seemed important."**

**The first task of the Triwizard Tournament took place on the 24****th**** of November. This would mean, of course, that Harry Potter and (at that time) Charlie Weasley have been carrying on their secret affair for eight months.**

"**It wasn't easy," Mr. (Charlie) Potter reminisced, holding his bondmate's hand as they sat in the kitchen of the Weasley Family home. "I had to return to Romania soon after the task was completed, and Harry and I kept in touch mostly through owl post. As Harry said, we did not start out intending to form a romantic attachment, things just turned out that way. We were both Gryffindor Seekers, and both share an affinity for work with magical creatures. He was very easy to talk to. As the pressure of the tournament increased and media speculation grew, I became an important outlet for Harry, and he in return became my closest friend and showed me how to see the world in a new perspective."**

**Reliable sources within the Ministry confirm that earlier this summer, Lord Potter visited the Department of Magical Law Enforcement accompanied by (then) Charlie Weasley. Lord Potter was reportedly clearing up a clerical error which left him accused of the use of underage magic in a residential area of muggle Britain. He was supposedly cleared of all charges partly on account of evidence that he had in fact been 'vacationing' with Charlie at his dragon reserve in Romania (Lord Potter's wand was also thoroughly checked, leaving irrefutable proof of his innocence in the matter). **

**If their tale of romance is to be believed, it must be explained, then, why they kept their relationship a secret for so long and why the sudden elopement yesterday. "We were afraid, I suppose," explained Lord Potter, leaning his head against his bondmate's shoulder. "Afraid that people would try to keep us apart, because of my age, or because we are both blokes. I wouldn't risk losing Charlie."**

"**It was tiring keeping it concealed, though," Mr. Potter cut in, "and we didn't want to hide what we shared as though it was something to be ashamed of. We performed a traditional marriage bond, which as I am sure you know is a lifelong union. No one will be able to keep us apart now."**

**The reason behind the timing of their elopement is perhaps the most shocking part of the story yet. Lord Potter, as a minor, required the consent of his guardian for the magic of the bonding to work. His magical guardian, it turns out, is none other than mass-murderer and Azkaban escapee Sirius Black! In fact, Lord Potter inherited not only the Potter bloodline but the Black line as well through Sirius Black himself! This means that Lord Potter, through his temporary guardian Mr. Potter, now holds eleven votes in the High Council, the most held by a single family in its history (in recent years, these votes have been controlled by Albus Dumbledore, though he never alluded to the fact that he was in fact acting as caretaker for a single family line).**

"**Charlie and I couldn't reach out to Sirius to grant my consent until Charlie became Weasley heir this morning. Consorting with a wanted criminal would land us in Azkaban. Thanks to Lucius Malfoy and some convenient family history, however, we had just the loophole we needed." **

**The loophole Lord Potter is referring to is a law passed through the High Council during He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's rein by Lord Malfay which grants a twenty-four hour period of immunity to families who require an outlawed Lord or heir to participate in a bonding ritual as a way to protect bloodline holdings. Lord Weasley, who holds a single vote in the High Council, inherited it through his wife, Molly Weasley (née Prewett). It had previously been held by Prewett heirs Gideon and Fabian, Molly's cousins who, along with their father Lord Prewett, were murdered in the war against You-Know-Who. As legal heir to Lord Prewett and his wife Lucretia Black (who had the title of Black heir taken from her at age fourteen and bestowed on her infant brother Orion, father of Sirius Black), Lord Weasley held the power to challenge Lord Potter for Black family assets. This power was negated when Charlie, as newly named Weasley heir, aligned himself with the Potter family through his marriage bond.**

"**It's all rather remarkable," Mr. Potter mused. "To think that I was able to bond with this amazing wizard all thanks to decisions made by Blacks and Malfoys before we ever met."**

**Lord Potter, who has recently faced accusations of both mental instability and violent tendencies, made a bold (and some might argue foolish) move by making contact with the criminal Sirius Black. When questioned on the matter, he quickly became agitated. **

"**Sirius claims that he did not commit the crimes attributed to him. Having been falsely accused of wrongdoings myself, I have a difficult time casting blame on a man who was never given a trial, never allowed questioning under vertaserum, and never given the opportunity to share pensieve accounts of the events in question." Lord Potter declined to discuss the topic any further.**

**The Potters' surprise bonding has so far received mixed reactions from family and friends. **

**Says Lord Weasley, "I won't deny the union came as quite a shock to the family, but I have only ever wanted my children's' happiness." (When asked how he had his children's happiness in mind when he disowned two of his sons yesterday morning, Lord Weasley had only "No comment" to say.) **

**Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts as well as the current Care of Magical Creatures professor, has been said by Lord Potter to have been "…the first friend I ever made in the magical world." I had the opportunity to ask Mr. Hagrid how he was taking the news of Harry Potter bonded to a man. "Wha's Charlie bein' a man hafta do with anythin'?" He questioned in return. "If yer find someone ta love and cherish fer the rest o' yer days, who gives a flyin' pixie what bits they got?"**

**Others, however, have not reacted nearly as well. Lavender Brown, a Gryffindor classmate of Lord Potter's who was visiting the Ministry while Lord Weasley was being interviewed and overheard the conversation, had a very different opinion on the Potter union.**

"**It's disgusting, unnatural! I can't believe it… I won't believe it! Harry isn't… **_**that way**_**… we would know!" Miss Brown proceeded to burst into tears and had to be escorted away by her parents.**

**One can only imagine the sort of effect Lord Potter's bond will have on the student population at Hogwarts upon their return to classes in September. As for the Potters, I am sure the public eagerly awaits news on their future participation in the political and social realm of high wizarding society.**

**-Rita Skeeter**

Harry rolled his eyes at the kiss mark left in bright red lipstick at the bottom of the note Rita had tied around her advanced copy of that day's Prophet.

_I hope the article is satisfactory, __Lord Potter__.  
You and your bondmate make a lovely couple.  
I have no doubt that a picture of the Boy-Who-Lived locking lips will make my following sky-rocket, despite my recent… hiatus. Rest assured, it is the only reason I have not hexed you and the Granger girl from here to Bulgaria for your little blackmail stunt.  
I don't know what your play is here, but I admit I am amused.  
Let me know if you decide to turn the wizarding world on its head again. I might even be persuaded to assist voluntarily.  
After all, I was given quite a pretty raise this morning._

_Chow baby,_

_XOXO_

Harry skimmed the article then read through it carefully a second time and passed it over to Hermione, going back to his breakfast and pointedly ignoring the anxious looks of anticipation from his friends and the Order members filling the kitchen. All in all, it had been more positive and accurate than he had expected.

Fred and George made a joint grab for the note when he set it down, and both of them scowled as they read.

"Even if this works the way Ron thinks it will…"

"…it just won't be satisfying now that we know Skeeter benefited from it." They might have kept going, but Hermione snorted from down the table and they all looked up eagerly, painfully curious to hear about the article.

"Could she have called you 'Lord Potter' even one more time? Honestly, you never should have let on how much you hated it… Although you know, I almost think she was trying to screw with Malfoy's head much more than she was trying to mess with you. It really isn't bad at all Harry, far better than her usual garbage by any means. Though how she managed to track down Hagrid and then pick out Lavender from the crowds at the Ministry I'll never know. Devious, exasperating woman."

"Oh for Merlin's—hand over the paper already Hermione!" Sirius was pouting in his chair across the table, still put-out that he had not been allowed to stand guard with the others during the interview and catch the show first-hand.

_Mad-Eye and a small battalion of Order members had accompanied them to the Burrow, and then done a magical sweep of every nook and cranny of the building before actually allowing Harry to set foot inside. Harry had tried to point out that all of this was a bit excessive, especially given that Mundungus Fletcher had been left to watch the house since that morning. Then again, they found 'Dung sound asleep on the couch when they arrived, so Harry supposed even he could admit that this was a weak argument._

_After shouting at Fletcher and sending him away, Moody had stationed Remus Lupin, Dedalus Diggle, Sturgis Podmore, Hestia Jones, Elphias Dodge, and Emmaline Vance all in various bedrooms throughout the house. Tonks, much to her consternation, had been placed in the tiny, first-floor bathroom behind the kitchen, and Hagrid (and to Harry's great amusement, Fang) were hidden in the line of trees near the Weasley's quidditch field. Moody himself was ensconced under Harry's invisibility cloak in the far corner of the living room where Harry, Hermione, and Charlie now sat._

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by a loud, appreciative whistle from his godfather, who had finally snatched the paper away from Hermione as she read through the article a fourth time.

"Oh, now that is going on the mantle." Harry flushed, realizing that Sirius was looking at the photos scattered across the front page rather than the article itself. As Charlie had predicted, there was shot of the two of them standing with their wand-arms locked together, mirroring the stance they had taken during the bonding ceremony itself. The blue light was once again visible wound around their hands and arms, and they were gazing into each other's eyes with unwavering resolve. Another near the bottom of the page had them seated at the kitchen table, hands entwined and Harry's head tucked against Charlie's shoulder, just as the article described. The real attention-grabber, however, and presumably that which had caught Sirius' attention, was a full-color print below the article heading, enlarged to take up most of the top fold of the front page.

"_Come now Harry, just a little smooch from the newly-weds!" They were standing in the garden, having retreated to the open air after the questions became more focused on Sirius. Ron and Hermione, in a rare show of solidarity, had drilled into Harry's head exactly which things he was not under any circumstances supposed to say: 'Don't say you're gay, that will get the public all wound up. Just allude to the fact that you didn't allow Charlie's gender to be a determining factor…' 'Don't defend Sirius. You don't have to call him a murderer or anything, but people already thing you might be a nut-job, you can't suddenly start supporting the wizarding world's most wanted criminal…' 'Don't focus on anything physical between you and Charlie before you bonded; you're a minor, and that could look very bad for Charlie…' 'If you can get it in, explain the dropped charges from a couple weeks back; it will come up eventually, and it's better for you if it doesn't look like you were hiding it.' The list had seemed infinite, and in the end it was escape to the fresh air or strangle Skeeter with his bare hands for goading him on topics he clearly would not discuss further._

"_I'm sure you can write a convincing enough article without it Ms. Skeeter, you have taken plenty of photos as is," Charlie answered smoothly, though there was no mistaking the warning in his voice. He could sense the frustration radiating from his bondmate in waves, and he wasn't about to let the vile woman torment him any further._

"_Well of course, I can convince my readers of just about anything, but the photo would still be so delightful."_

"_You'll have to do without." Charlie ground out through clenched teeth, quickly losing his patience. Rita changed tactics. _

"_For the best probably. The minister would simply have hated it…" Harry knew he was being manipulated; hell, Skeeter wasn't even trying to hide the fact. But Fudge WOULD hate it, and damn it if he didn't want a kiss from his bondmate more than anything else at that moment, to distract him from the headache this interview had caused._

_Without giving himself time to change his mind, Harry turned to look down at Charlie. They were on a small set of steps leading into the sloping gardens, and from this vantage point Charlie actually had to tip his head back to meet Harry's eyes. Harry framed the red-head's face in his hands and pulled him closer, moving slowly and giving Charlie plenty of time to pull away if he wanted. When Charlie allowed himself to be guided forward and simply gazed into Harry's eyes patiently as though awaiting his cue, Harry felt his heart flutter and leaned in to press their lips together. He forgot about Rita Skeeter and the interview, forgot about Bill and Mr. Weasley, forgot about Moody and the other Order members no doubt peeking through the windows at them at that very moment. Instead, he focused on the warm, soft give of Charlie's lips beneath his own, the way the other man's fingers curled into the front of his robes as though clutching for purchase, and the warm, wet sensation of Charlie's tongue poking out to swipe against his lips before Harry parted them and slid his own tongue against Charlie's. They were oblivious to the frantic flashing of a camera in the background._

"Shut up, Sirius," Harry sniped, trying to sound nonchalant as he furiously fought back a blush.

"Are you using _tongue_?"

"Shut _up_, Sirius!" There was a mad scramble for the paper as Weasleys and Order members alike attempted to snatch it away from the animagus. Judging by the universally shocked reaction, not as many people had been peeking through windows as Harry had thought.

"Blimey mate," Ron said with a slightly pained expression, having captured the paper and looking down at it as Fred and George flanked him from either side. The three of them seemed to have put their mêlée temporarily on hold since Bill had agreed to be disowned and the entire family had been tip-toeing around in a timid truce of sorts. "I know I told you that you had to be convincing, but even I wasn't going to make you go _that_ far."

There was the sound of a chime from the front hall, and moments later Mad-Eye came limping into the kitchen with a large bundle of Daily Prophets in his arms. Harry groaned and put his head down on the table as the rest of the room leapt forward for their own copies. Hermione patted his shoulder distractedly and opened her book: δράκων - _The Known Evolution of the Dragon_.

"If I ever see Percy again…" Ginny fumed quietly, eyes stormy as she no doubt read her brother's quote. She was cut off, however, by raucous laughter from the twins.

"Oi, Harry. 'Charlie was a source of strength and comfort during a very challenging phase of my life… We connected on a level I had never experienced before, and it was beautiful.' Well you poor dear, thank Merlin you found a strong Weasley to dry your tears when this cruel world was just too much for your delicate little heart to bare!" Harry threw a piece of bacon in Fred's direction half-heartedly, blushing brighter.

"No no no, Fred it gets better—you didn't get to Charlie's part yet: '[Harry] in return became my closest friend and showed me how to see the world in a new perspective.' You two are sooooo gay." This time Harry, Hermione, Sirius, and Remus all threw various breakfast foods at the twins, and they ducked and ran from the room, still laughing and clutching several copies of the Daily Prophet.

Harry decided to finish his breakfast in the library.

XxXxXxXxX

Several hours later, Snape flooed into the empty kitchen of Grimmauld Place and picked up one of the abandoned newspapers littered across the table. He sat gracefully in one of the straight-backed chairs, stretching his legs out and relaxing as he read leisurely through Skeeter's article. Double-checking to make sure that no one was around, he allowed himself to smirk. For a Prophet article, they couldn't have done better.

Dippy, adoring witches would be tripping over themselves to congratulate the Great Harry Potter on finding happily ever after with his one true love.

Purebloods not aligned entirely with the Dark Lord would readily bury their prejudices in favor of making allies with the powerful and, by all appearances, cunning young wizard.

Perhaps most importantly, though, the entire wizarding world now had an intimate look into Potter's life that would plant more than a few seeds of doubt that he was really as violent and unstable as the Prophet had been saying all summer.

Over all Potter had, most surprisingly, done quite well. And the youngest Weasley boy seemed to have come up with a rather effective scheme after all. Still, nothing had been a more pleasant surprise than finding out that Miss Granger had kept Rita Skeeter captive for several weeks last semester, and as a beetle in a jar no less! He would have paid good money to have seen it. He had been especially impressed that she had used her knowledge to force Skeeter into vowing to a year without publishing. They theoretically had another nine months of near-cooperation from the woman by providing her only opportunity to write.

He studied the accompanying photos spread through the article and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, wondering just how much of the dopey-eyed attraction was staged for the camera, and how much was genuine. He realized his gaze had lingered too long on the picture of the young couple's passionate kiss and he tossed the paper quickly down onto the table, suddenly uncomfortable.

Rising elegantly to his feet, he pulled six Hogwarts letters from his robes and went in search of the Gryffindor brats. He had been most annoyed to realize that he had completely forgotten to make the delivery the day before, and thus was forced to return to the mangy mutt's home for the second day in a row.

He paused as he passed the library, hearing muffled sounds from inside. Plastering his best sneer on his face, he flung the door open and strode briskly through the door. Moments later he was rushing across the room, aloof mask completely forgotten at the sight of Harry Potter writhing on the floor in pain, body contorted as though experiencing the effects of the Cruciatus curse.

The boy suddenly stilled and slumped exhaustedly against the floor, a single harsh sob escaping his lips as sweat poured down his face and he gasped for breath. Severus was just about to reach out for him when Harry gasped and twisted distortedly in pain once again.

"_How long has this been going on?" _Snape thought frantically, no idea what he could do to help. As Potter continued to thrash about, the potions master quickly summoned a cushion from a nearby chair and slid it under the boy's head. Soon enough, Harry had stilled again. This time, though, his eyes shot open and darted around the room in panic as he gasped in lungfulls of air between sobs. The only color on his face was the angry red of his scar, which looked brighter and more raw than usual.

"Potter?" The boy continued to look about the room frantically, and didn't appear to have heard the sharply spoken word. Severus pressed a hand firmly but carefully to one of the young wizard's shoulders in an attempt to still his violent trembling, and when he spoke again his voice had gentled considerably. "Harry?" This time bright green eyes locked onto his own, and the cloudy haze slowly faded as comprehension dawned.

"P-professor!" He made to sit up, but Severus kept him pressed firmly to the ground. "Need to sit—have to—"

"Just lay there, idiot boy. I need to see if your body is suffering any lasting effects."

"Can't, I feel—I need—_please_." His voice broke on the last desperate word, and Severus suddenly noticed the way Harry's stomach was clenching sporadically and quickly slid an arm behind the boy helping him sit up. Almost immediately, Harry leaned away from him and threw up violently. Snape, having suffered the Cruciatus curse several times himself (and he was quite sure at this point that Harry had, somehow, done just that), felt rather sheepish for not realizing this would be an inevitable reaction.

"I'm sorry." Snape looked up in surprise at the quiet words, more than a little shocked that the boy wasn't crying hysterically, much less making coherent conversation.

"And what is it that you are apologizing for?"

"Nearly puking on you. I've never done that after he used Crucio before. After the fourth time I already wasn't sure I could hold it together though, and then that last one did me in." Severus was glad that Harry was sitting with his head between his knees, eyes closed, and therefore didn't see the potions master's own eyes widen in disbelief. _He just endured the Cruciatus curse five times, and he's still conscious? _ He vanished the pool of vomit with a flick of his wand and chose not to say anything in response to the boy's apology. He himself had thrown up after a single Cruciatus on more than one occasion, and he had been older than Harry at the time.

"What just happened Potter?"

"Vision," he hedged, holding his head between his knees and failing miserably at suppressing the tremors plaguing his body.

"You don't say," Severus drawled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. When the boy didn't respond, he rubbed his temples and pressed further. "What was the vision _about_, Potter?"

"Voldemort was—"

"Don't say his name!" Harry lifted his head just long enough to scowl, then dropped his head back down with a groan.

"You-Know-Who was torturing some of his death eaters. No, I don't know who it was," he added before Snape could interrupt. "They had their masks on the whole time, and he never said their names. There were five there. He used Wormtail's mark to call them, and when they got there, he used the Cruciatus on them one at a time. Then he sent them away."

"So you have no idea why he was upset?" Harry shrugged, but Severus noticed the way he hesitated first. Snape narrowed his eyes. "Then I will let the headmaster know an Order meeting needs to be called so we can discuss the possibilities." He rose gracefully to his feet and had just turned as though to leave when a small voice stopped him.

"Wait!" Severus hid his smirk quickly and once again looked down at the pale boy. _Why Potter thinks he can lie to ME and get away with it is a mystery, _Snape thought smugly as he waited for the boy to continue.

Harry took a shaky breath and when he spoke, his voice was sharp with something between grief and shame.

"He was upset because of me. Because he saw the article in the paper, and… and he saw that I was happy."

The words hit Severus like a bucket of ice water, and he found himself wishing for some way to… comfort the boy. Spinning around and sweeping his robes protectively around his frame, Snape hurried toward the library door and his escape.

"I will send for Poppy." He waited until the last possible moment to make a second, far more difficult, promise. "I will find the mutt and tell him you are in here before I go."

He missed the look of thoughtful surprise on Harry's face as he swept forebodingly through the doorway.

"Thank you, professor," Harry whispered to the empty room. Then he lowered himself gently to the ground and curled up on his side, the screams of the death-eaters as they were tortured still echoing in his mind.


	30. Chapter 30

~ Chapter Thirty ~

_A long, dark hallway.  
A locked door.  
That same sharp scent of magic in the air.  
A rising, overwhelming rage.  
Screams of masked death-eaters writhing in pain…  
Cedric Diggory writhing in pain…  
Cedric Diggory dead…  
Maniacal laughter and Lily Potter's dying screams…_

Harry woke in a cold sweat, whipping his wand out from under his pillow and opening his eyes to find it pointed directly at Charlie's face.

"Bloody hell!" They both muttered, thinking just how close the red-head had come to being cursed first thing in the morning.

"What the bugger are you doing here?" Harry snapped, fumbling for his glasses as his hands continued to shake from the after-shock of the nightmare. They had been returning with increasing ferocity all week, the longer he spent away from Charlie. They all started out as the same strange, meaningless dream. Soon, though, they became repeating images of terrible memories, mixed with dreadful nightmares and all clouded by a vision-like haze.

Charlie blinked at him disbelievingly for a moment, and then suddenly doubled over in hysterical laughter. Harry scowled at his noisy bondmate,

"What are you on about?"

"You don't—you're not even—oh Merlin, this is priceless. Hurry, get up." He had tears welling up in the corners of his eyes he was laughing so hard, and he could hardly catch his breath long enough to form complete sentences.

"What is so bloody important that you came all the way from Romania to get me up at bloody arse-o'clock in the morning?" Harry grumbled, dragging himself reluctantly out of bed and unable to bring himself to care that his language was not only foul, but uncreative. For some reason, this just sent Charlie into a new round of laughter, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry—I really shouldn't be laughing, it's not that funny. I mean it is, but it's just _sad_ mate…" Harry got himself more-or-less dressed, ran a hand distractedly through his messy hair (which only succeeded in making it stand up even more messily), and allowed Charlie to lead him out of the room. His bondmate was still chuckling quietly and there was a merry bounce to his step. Harry was strongly considering casting a tripping hex.

Luckily for Charlie they had reached the kitchen, and the red-head smiled broadly as he waited for him by the door. Harry, still grumpy at be woken so early, pointedly ignored him as he walked past and shoved the door open.

A number of things happened in the space of a few seconds: Several dozen people shouted "Surprise!" and colorful poppers were pulled; Charlie shoved his way quickly into the kitchen with Harry so as not to miss the moment; Harry, bombarded with sudden and unexpected shouting and movement from a room full of people immediately shoved his bondmate to the floor and dove on top of him protectively; At the same time, he whipped his wand out of his pocket where his fingers had already been curled loosely around the handle, and roared "_IMMOBULUS MAXIMA!_" as he made a slashing movement that encompassed the entire room.

"Oh shite," Charlie croaked from beneath Harry's rapidly beating heart, and the blinding flash of blue light faded to reveal his friends and Order members sprawled across the floor, furniture, and each other haphazardly, completely frozen in whatever they had been doing when the powerful charm was cast.

"Er, happy birthday?" Charlie gasped, shoving Harry brusquely onto the floor beside him and coughing and wheezing while he tried to catch his breath after Harry had knocked the wind out of him.

Harry looked around at the effects of his magic, and felt a deep flush creeping up his neck and face as Charlie's words sunk in.

Birthday. Harry's birthday. He was fifteen today.

Somehow, he doubted this was what Madame Pomfrey had had in mind when she said he could ease his way back into magical use and see how it went.

"Bullocks."

XxXxXxXxX

_Harry was oddly disappointed when Madame Pomfrey stormed into the library unaccompanied by a hovering, billowing-robed professor. Not that he was anxious for Snape's company, of course, but the man's actions lately had been confusing him. Or maybe it was just that Harry was more aware recently of what the professor was really saying beneath his condescending words. For some reason, Harry had decided he need to figure out what kind of person the professor really was._

_He didn't have long to dwell on this new dilemma, however. Madame Pomfrey was briskly shooing Sirius away from where he sat on the floor, Harry's aching head pillowed on the older man's folded legs while his godfather ran his fingers soothingly through his hair._

_Immediately, the mediwitch had her wand waving slowly over Harry and running scans. Her lips were thin and pressed tightly together, and he wondered if she was actually trying to physically hold her words back._

"_It's alright, you can say it. You probably won't be able to concentrate properly until you do anyway," Harry told her, half in resignation and half in fond amusement._

"_Say what, Mr. Potter?" She snapped back tersely, and Harry had to fight to keep his lip from twitching at how hard she was trying not to scold him._

"_Your usual. 'Mr. Potter, what reckless foolishness have you gotten yourself into this time? Haven't I told you again and again, if you don't stop treating your body like a pincushion for basilisk fangs or a practice target for bludgers or a test subject for moronic defense professors who think disappearing arm bones is even a semi-intelligent decision, I am going to stop wasting my precious time and resources mending you! Now take this dreadful potion and get into bed so that you are properly restrained—er, rested—to deal with the even more dreadfaul effects!' …or something like that." Harry quipped in an exaggerated imitation of the matronly nurse. He continued lifting his arms and turning at the appropriate times as he did so, well used to the rhythm of her exams by now. To his satisfaction, he saw the edges of her lips quivering as though holding back laughter._

_Once she had gotten herself pulled together and was busy marking down results on a piece of parchment, she finally answered._

"_As apt as that little speech would be on many an occasion, Mr. Potter, it is not valid in this particular case. You had no more control over the vicious attack on your mind that you experienced tonight than I did. Even Professor Snape informed me that your current state was not as a result of your own actions, and I can assure you it is not a guarantee he would make for any student without absolute certainty, and perhaps especially not for you." Harry saw out of the corner of his eye that his godfather looked rather stunned that Snape had bothered to make such assurances on Harry's behalf, and his curiosity about the potions master only increased._

_What he said, though, was "Great," while (knowing he was testing his luck) he stealthily started to sit up. "So how bad is it this time?" Madame Pomfrey merely rolled her eyes and pushed him back onto the ground, Harry huffing in annoyance._

"_You experienced the Cruciatus curse five times, Mr. Potter! By all reason you should be unconscious at best and more likely requiring a short stay at St. Mungo's for mental reparation. So, as is inevitably the case with you, your body is reacting as though it merely had a particularly nasty run-in with the muggle flu." Harry actually chuckled at the almost irritated quality to the woman's voice. He knew that Madame Pomfrey was above all else relieved that he was not suffering any more severe damage, but he also knew that the fact that he was not when all her medical training and experience told her he should be was going to pester her to no end. _

_From the side of the room, Sirius muttered a tearful "Thank Merlin," and Harry felt a warm sensation near his heart. It was strange having someone around who cared and worried so much about his well-being. His godfather's happiness (or lack thereof) seemed to stem so much from Harry's own happiness, and his feelings had never mattered to another person in such a way. Perhaps to his parents, he conceded, but if this was the case he had no memory of it. _

_As Madame Pomfrey was laying out a massive hunk of chocolate and a small vial of a coppery substance he saw was labeled as 'nerve replenisher' on his bedside table, Harry remembered he had been hoping for a chance to speak to the woman._

"_Madame Pomfrey, how is my… core, or whatever? Am I allowed to use magic again? I haven't since you told me, but I really really think I'm fine now!" He forced a pleading tone into his voice and gave her his best look of pitiful woe. It never seemed to have much effect on the mediwitch, but it was all he had to work with so he kept trying._

_Predictably, she rolled her eyes and otherwise ignored his antics. _

"_Loath as I am to say so, my readings show no indication that performing magic would pose a risk to your health at this point. However," she emphasized the word, fixing Harry with one of her sternest looks. "You will ease you way back into magical use. If I have to come back here to pull you back from the clutches of death for overdoing it again, I will lock your wand up myself and keep it there until term begins!" Harry wisely chose not to point out that the lack of his wand while performing magic had led to the problem in the first place, and instead settled for nodding meakly._

"_Mr. Potter," She inclined her head at him, brisk and proper as ever. "Mr. Black." Once they, too, had nodded their goodbyes, she turned and left without further ado._

_There was silence for a moment, then,_

"_Disappearing arm bones?" Harry groaned at the eager tone in his godfather's question._

XxXxXxXxX

Harry hesitated before ending his charm, taking in the damage around the room. Ron had fallen onto the table, half his face now smashed into the side of a birthday cake. Hermione, Ginny, and Tonks must have been in mid-leap, because they were all in a pile on the kitchen floor (then again, they may have already been there when the charm was cast, given Tonks' affinity for knocking herself over). Mrs. Weasley was tipped forward over the sink, arm outstretched like she had been reaching for something. Most of her hair was now soaking wet from the dishwater, and Harry found that he didn't feel as badly about this as he probably should have. Fred and George appeared to have leapt onto the backs of Bill and Arthur during the moment of surprise. Miraculously, both pairs had remained relatively upright, thought Fred and Bill were propped partially against the other two, and Harry rather thought that Fred's face in George's armpit was karma at play. The last group to have ended up in any position worth note was near the back of the room. Mad-Eye stood with his wand out and scowling at where Sirius and Snape had obviously been fighting. Dumbledore stood just past them, hands raised in what was no doubt meant to be a calming gesture. Unfortunately, Sirius and Snape were no longer standing and facing one another; somehow, when the charm was cast, Black had fallen forward onto the potions master, their faces hardly an inch apart. As soon as the charm lifted, their lips would inevitably smash together.

"Shite, Charlie…" The red-head in question levered himself to his feet and followed Harry's mad dash across the room, face paling as he saw the compromising position the two rivals had ended up in.

"I don't suppose Professor Snape will let you off for this, since it's your birthday…?" Charlie trailed off at the incredulous look Harry shot his way in reply. "Right, never mind. Let's pull them apart." That done, Harry braced himself for the explosion, stepped out of arms reach of the professor, and raised his wand.

"_Finite Incantatem!_"

"POTTER!" Predictably, Snape recovered from the charm's effects most quickly, and immediately advanced on Harry dangerously. "Exactly what sort of grave threat were you expecting when you walked into the kitchen of headquarters? Are these inane surprises not typical of Weasley birthday celebrations?" Harry vaguely considered asking Snape how he knew so much about Weasley birthday rituals, but thankfully caught himself before the words escaped. Actually, Charlie spoke up before he had managed to form an appropriate response.

"Harry didn't remember it was his birthday, sir. I thought it would make the surprise more fun, so I decided not to say anything when I went to wake him…"

"Surprises are _not_ fun!" Harry and Severus stared at each other in shock when they realized they had spoken the words together. Dumbledore coughed suspiciously as though covering up a laugh.

"You see?" Moody cut in, limping over to them and scowling even harsher than Snape. "You _never_ sneak up on an Order member! Especially not one who has had as many run-ins with the Dark Lord as these two have."

"Potter is not in the Order!" Snape snarled, although Harry suspected he was objecting more to being compared with him than to the technicality.

"Well he should be," Mad-Eye shot back.

"Alastor…" Moody waved a hand dismissively at the headmaster's warning tone, but he dropped the subject. All around them, the other occupants of the room were helping each other to their feet and watching the conversation curiously, the birthday spirit abruptly subdued. The one exception was Fred and George, who were holding Ron down and picking bits of cake off his face. When they leaned in to lick frosting from his cheek, Arthur and Bill distractedly separated them, everyone ignoring Ron's mortified complaints.

"Er… I'm really sorry," Harry told the room sheepishly.

"Don't apologize boy! Constant vigilance, I always say." Harry and the rest of the Hogwarts students who had endured Defense against the Dark Arts lessons with an imposter Moody the year before all winced.

"Alastor is quite right," Dumbledore assured Harry. "Just a little over-reaction, nothing to feel badly about. Especially on your birthday! Come now; Molly has prepared a lovely breakfast for you, why don't we dig in before many of us have to leave for work." Taking the friendly suggestion as an order, the sound of voices and the clatter of dishes being passed immediately filled the room. Only Harry heard when Dumbledore continued in a whisper. "Professor Snape and I need to speak with you this morning, Harry. I rather thought bringing him along in time for the festivities would lighten his spirits before our little chat, but alas…"

XxXxXxXxX

_Who in their right mind would think that bringing Severus Snape along to 'the Great Harry Potter's' birthday party was a good idea?_ Harry thought bitterly an hour later while he and Charlie sat across from Snape and Dumbledore in the library. The man had glared at him straight through breakfast, and Harry had to try even harder than usual to make it appear that he was eating. Along with severe lack of sleep, his night terrors had made him reluctant to eat anything through most of the week.

"Well my boy, I must apologize for interrupting your birthday with such serious conversation, but I am afraid the matter is urgent. Professor Snape informed me of the unfortunate incident yesterday morning." Charlie shot Harry a sharp look and he winced, realizing he had not yet told his bondmate of the vision the day before. "I am growing concerned with the increasing frequency and ferocity of your visions."

"Sorry headmaster," Charlie interrupted, then turned on Harry. "What vision? What is he talking about Harry?"

"I saw Voldemort performing the Cruciatus curse on five of his followerers," Harry mumbled, carefully avoiding Snape and Dumbledore's eyes. It wasn't a lie, per se, but he had certainly left out several significant details. Thankfully, neither man corrected him. Charlie frowned and searched his eyes. Harry could see that he was concerned, but he also had the sinking suspicion that Charlie knew there was more to the story. Quickly, Charlie threw up a silencing charm around the two of them. Harry saw Snape raise his wand furiously, but Dumbledore placed a calming hnad on his shoulder and leaned in to speak to him softly, making no move to interfere with the two young men himself.

"You should have told me, Harry."

"Why? So you could protect me? You're not my bodyguard, Charlie!"

"No, I'm your boyfriend! Or at least I thought—I mean—Oh for Merlin's… never mind." Charlie blushed as he tripped over his own words, and Harry realized he had misread his bondmate's motives terribly. He reached out and cautiously touched Charlie's wrist to get his attention, careful not to let the contact remain for too long in front of their audience.

"I'd like you to be. My boyfriend, I mean; I want that."

"Okay then," Charlie said, bumping their knees together once in a sign of forgiveness. "That's only going to work if we trust each other. I know you don't want to be controlled Harry, I won't do that. But if we're going to be a team in this than that expectation needs to go both ways."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were in Romania, with the dragons. And I've been having visions all week, I didn't figure it was a big deal as long as I was fine…" He winced again as he realized his mistake, Charlie's eyes narrowing angrily. "Not _exactly_ visions, more like nightmares. I haven't slept very much this week is all." Charlie frowned at him.

"You were sleeping fine while we were at the reserve, right?"

"Yeah. It's probably just the stress of Bill and the Prophet article and all that… I suppose you saw that?" Charlie looked as though he didn't quite believe Harry's theory, but he grinned at the mention of the article.

"I ordered a few dozen copies after I saw it." His grin widened into a smirk at Harry's alarmed look. "The picture of us snogging may or may not keep conveniently showing up where Pavel is bound to find it…" The gleam in his eye said clearly 'to remind him that you are _mine_," and Harry felt the familiar sensation of warmth and security begin to settle over him that he had been missing while Charlie was in Romania.

The silencing ward around them shimmered, and Harry looked up in surprise, having almost forgotten that he and Charlie were not alone in the room. Dumbledore was pressing the tip of his wand to the ward. Not attempting to break through it, but getting their attention and reminding them that the conversation from a few minutes earlier had not finished.

Harry nodded at Charlie, his bondmate waiting for his okay to end the charm, and then the shimmering sphere around them disapeared.

"I'm sorry for the interruption," Charlie told them. Dumbledore smiled his infuriating trademark smile that said he somehow knew exactly what had just happened, and Snape merely continued to scowl.

"Not at all, my boy. You and Harry have been apart for a while now, I should have thought to give him a chance to brief his guardian before calling this meeting, my apologies." When it became clear that neither Harry nor Charlie intended to answer this assessment in any way, Dumbledore smiled once more before steepling his fingers and continuing. "Yes, well; where was I? Your visions seem to be occurring more often and more severely. Your connection with Voldemort is, of course, unique, but I can venture a few guesses as to some possible concerns this might pose. First and foremost, I am worried that Voldemort will become aware of the depth of your link and attempt to manipulate it in reverse."

"You think he's going to try to see inside my head?" Harry clarified. Snape snorted, and the young man frowned slightly. He thought that had been a rather accurate summary of what the headmaster had just said.

"More or less, Harry, yes. He may also attempt to plant false images into your own mind. Traps to lure you in where he can get to you."

"How do we stop it?" Charlie asked, his entire stance set firmly as though preparing for battle. Harry was equal parts touched at the other man's determination to face whatever was to come side by side with Harry, and concerned with what that could mean for Charlie's own safety.

"_We_, unfortunately, are able to do very little." Dumbledore replied sadly, emphasizing the first word as he motioned between himself and Charlie. The red-head narrowed his eyes, but Dumbledore continued before he could be interrupted. "Have either of you ever heard of Occlumency?" The headmaster asked suddenly, and Harry was glad to see that Charlie looked just as confused as he did. They both shook their heads. "I thought not. Occlumency is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure I exactly understand," Harry said cautiously.

"Really Albus, this is absurd!" Snape burst out, his frustration with the situation finally winning out over his desire to ignore Harry's very existence. "Potter could not possibly exercise the dedication or mental discipline to master the art, this is a waste of time."

"Severus, please. Harry, Occlumency is essentially the ability to close one's mind against another's; prevent them from accessing one's thoughts and feelings, or influencing them."

"People can do that?" Harry asked nervously, and he saw Snape smirk at him as he glanced nervously at his potions professor.

"Not everyone, no. Not even most. It takes an exceptionally powerful and talented witch or wizard to master Occlumency and Legilimency. Legilimency being, of course, the ability to penetrate the mind of others. Those that do master the skill are known as Legilimens." Harry relaxed slightly; Snape couldn't read his thoughts, only these 'Legilimens' people knew how to do that. Dumbledore continued. "Luckily for us, and not well known to many people, Severus is one of the finest Legilimens there is."

Harry felt like he was going to be sick.

"Relax, Potter," Snape spat out. "I highly doubt venturing into your tiny mind would prove at all noteworthy."

"Severus, that is enough. Harry, I wish for you to study Occlumency from Professor Snape this term." Harry kept his face carefully blank, but on the inside his heart was sinking. This was what he got for hoping for the chance to figure out who the other man really was.

"I see."

"This is extremely important, Harry."

"Yes sir, I understand." Harry certainly wasn't looking forward to this, but he could only imagine how displeased Snape was with the idea. He decided if he was going to be spending even more time than usual with the potions professor this year, he may as well attempt to form some sort of peace between them. He turned slowly to the scowling man. "I really appreciate you taking the time to teach me, professor."

"Don't mock me Potter," Snape hissed dangerously. Harry, unfortunately, had reached the end of his patience that day and regardless of whatever good intentions he had been acting under moments before, he suddenly felt primed for a fight.

"No need, _sir_. You seem perfectly capable of making an arse of yourself all on your own!"

"Severus." "Harry." Dumbledore and Charlie scolded simultaneously, and quickly stood to block the other two snarling men from each other's views.

"Harry," Dumbledore continued once he was sure a duel was not about to break out. "After the Order meeting tonight, Severus will be unavailable for much of the next month due to an assignment. I simply wanted the chance to discuss this with both of you before he left. You have until the end of summer to get used to the idea, and then you _will_ do your best to accomplish this task. _Both_ of you," he added with a stern look at Snape.

Charlie subtly placed two fingers against his lower back, and Harry was sure that it was just as much a gesture of warning as it was of support. He needn't have worried; all the fight had drained out of Harry already, replaced by bone-deep exhaustion.

"Yes sir. And I'm sorry Professor Snape, what I said was uncalled for. I know," he said a little more loudly when it was clear a snarky reply was forthcoming. "You don't believe me and you probably don't care, but there it is anyway." He turned his back on the two older men, having no desire to continue this conversation. "Charlie, do you have a little time to talk before you have to get back to work?"

"I'd say so. I asked şef for the day off so I could take you out for your birthday, and he gave me the whole weekend. Actually what he said was that I had better not dare set my foot on the reserve until Sunday night, and that if he heard that you didn't enjoy your birthday I would be on scut duty for a month." Charlie faked a look of hurt. "You know, I used to be his favorite before you showed up."

"Charlie, you did not request an Order detail for today," Dumbledore said quietly from behind them. The red-head's face went carefully blank before he turned to the headmaster.

"That is because I will not be needing one."

"We talked about this," Dumbledore warned, voice dangerously calm. "If Harry is to leave headquarters anymore this summer, I would like him safely guarded. I thought we had come to an understanding when we discussed this before your interview with Ms. Skeeter."

"We did discuss it sir, and I understand your opinion on the matter. I just think it's the wrong opinion. I had no problem with you wasting precious time and excuses to send half the Order to my parents' house on Wednesday if that's what made you happy, but where I am taking Harry today an escort would not be appropriate."

"After the way the Prophet article splashed both of you into the spotlight—"

"—I would think it obvious that the last thing either of us would want would be to spend Harry's birthday dodging press and public. Apparently not. I assure you, headmaster, that we will not be making any sort of public spectacle of ourselves, however I thank you for your concern." His tone was sharp when he cut Dumbledore off, and as his temper rose so did his voice.

"Where are you going?"

"That is not your concern."

"It is my concern if Harry—"

"Where Harry goes in the summer is Harry's concern and, as his guardian and bondmate, my concern. As you are not Harry, his guardian, or his bondmate, than I can assure you that I will not be requiring your permission or blessing on this decision!" The door to the library opened loudly behind them, but not even Harry or Snape glanced over to see who had arrived, too intent on watching the growing argument in front of them.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, and his eyes widened no sound came out. He whipped his head around towards the door at the same moment that a new version of the twins' net-like shield charm settled between the headmaster and the Potters. This time, though, it hung as a curtain across the room rather than a dome, and left the path to the door behind them free. From the other side, Sirius, who had cast the silencing charm, fell over in a harmless body-bind after a non-verbal spell from Dumbledore.

"Well mates…"

"…that's your cue…"

"…enjoy the trip…"

"…and don't do anything…"

"…we wouldn't do!"

"Happy Birthday!" They ended together, turning quickly to grimace at their shield as Dumbledore quickly began reducing it. Harry barely had time to register what had happened before Charlie was dragging him by the neck of his robes out of the room. They half-stumbled, half-ran around the corner to the front door, and pulled up short at the sight of Mad-Eye standing in front of it with a scowl. They faced off in silence for just a moment, then Moody reached out and wrenched the door open, jerking his head in a sign to hurry. Mouths open in disbelief, Harry and Charlie none the less scurried past him.

"If you die on this little escapade of yours, I will bring you back to life just to kill you myself!" Moody promised by way of send-off, and slammed the door in their faces.

Charlie's arms wrapped snugly around him from behind and there was a sharp pull at his naval as he was sucked through side-along apparation.


	31. Chapter 31

~ Chapter Thirty-One ~

Once Harry had regained his balance, he looked around at the rolling hills and… sheep?

"Where are we?"

"Wales. On a sheep farm just outside of Abertswyrth, to be more exact. Come on, Mrs. Price is expecting us." Charlie took his hand and smiled as Harry looked down startled at a sheep brushing against him as it lumbered past. "I'll explain while we walk, the farmhouse is up a ways yet."

"Yeah, an explanation would be good," Harry agreed, but he found that he wasn't too concerned about exactly where they were or why. Charlie had stood up to Dumbledore to get him here, it was peaceful on the little farm, and the red-head's hand was warm and strong where their fingers locked together. They had only gone a few steps when an old sheepdog came bumbling over to them, barking happily after he sniffed at Charlie's outstretched hand.

"Hey Peaches, hey boy," Charlie greeted kindly, patting the elderly dog's head.

"Peaches?" Harry asked, grinning widely and petting the dog's soft fur himself. Charlie smiled back.

"Apparently his name was 'Shep' originally, but he only goes by peaches now. You'll understand after you've met Mrs. Price, she lives alone on the farm now—well, her and Peaches—though she hires a family down the road to tend to the sheep." Peaches trotted over to a cluster of sheep, playfully sending them scurrying away from the fence they were inspecting before turning and heading back in the direction he had come from. Harry and Charlie followed a little more slowly.

"So, explanation?"

"Mrs. Price, technically, is your great-aunt. Sort of." Harry pulled Charlie to an abrupt stop and stared at him wide-eyed.

"I don't have any family," he said carefully.

"Well blood family, no. She was married to your great-grandfather's brother. Your great-grandparents had one daughter, Ruby Price, who married an Englishman, Callum Evans, which is how you ended up in muggle Britain. Their son, Joel, was your grandfather. He was Lily's father." Harry swallowed thickly. He had learned more about his mother's family in the past minute than he had in an entire lifetime, and he had been raised by his mother's sister. He had to clear his throat and start a second time when he tried to speak.

"Did Mrs. Price know—I mean, did she ever meet my mum?"

"Once, when Lily was a little girl," Charlie told him gently. "That's actually not what I found her for originally, though." He took both of Harry's hands in his own and looked straight into his eyes. "This farm has been in the Price family for generations. Lily's parents were brought back here to be buried in the family lot after they died. Sirius told me that Lily said once that she wanted to be buried with them. She hadn't been able to attend her mother and father's funerals, she and James were already in hiding waiting for you to be born. Sirius was in Azkaban by the time your parents' funeral happened, but he always suspected Lily had left instructions for them to be laid to rest with her parents. He said it would explain why there are no records of their burial in the Ministry, and no one in the wizarding world seems to know where their graves are. It took us a while, but we finally tracked down the farm. I came to introduce myself to Mrs. Price earlier this week… she showed me the graves. I wanted you to be able to see them for yourself. Did I… I mean, is this okay?"

Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes and he quickly wrapped his arms around Charlie's neck, laying his head against the taller man's chest as he returned the hug.

"I can't believe you did all this. You have no idea what this means to me, to—I just—_thank you_." Charlie rubbed his back and held him for a few minutes, then carefully pushed Harry back from him, the younger man quickly wiping the last lingering tear from his cheek.

"Would you like to meet her Harry?" At his bondmate's nod, Charlie once again took his hand and began leading him down across the sunny field.

XxXxXxXxX

Harry clung to Charlie's hand tighter and tighter as they approached the two-story, red-brick farmhouse. There were flowers spilling cheerfully from window-boxes and the little white picket-fence around the porch looked freshly painted. As they crossed the gravel driveway and walked up the path to the front door, Harry noticed the soft tinkling of a wind-chime hung over a wicker rocking-chair. There was a faint curl of smoke rising from the stone chimney, and Harry thought it looked exactly like the kind of house he used to see in Dudley's picture books when he was little; the kind he used to wish belonged to a nice young couple who would come and take him away from his aunt and uncle.

He was practically holding his breath by the time they stepped up onto the creaking porch, and he was extremely thankful that Charlie didn't ask him if he was sure before he raised a fist to knock sharply on the door. From inside came the sound of slow, soft footsteps, and Harry quickly dropped his bondmate's hand. The door was opened to reveal a tiny, white-haired lady with a tan, wrinkled face and a sparkle in her eyes to rival Dumbledore's. She smiled at Charlie, then looked to Harry and simply beamed—there was no other word for it.

"Charlie, I've been wondering when you'd get here. Oh my, this must be Harry!" Before he knew what was happening, the small women had wrapped her thin arms around him in smothering hug, then pressed her soft lips to his cheek in a grandmotherly kiss. "It's so wonderful to meet you, peach." Harry glanced at Charlie at the endearment, and found his bondmate biting back a laugh. Harry, looking back at the woman, found that he couldn't help but feel at home with her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Price."

"Goodness, not you too! As I told your boyfriend, Mrs. Price was my mother-in-law. Awful woman," she added with an exaggerated shudder. "My name is Scarlett, and you will call me Scarlett or Aunt Scarlett." She suddenly tapped a wrinkled hand against her forehead. "Oh my, where are my manners? Please, come in. I'll put on some tea." She bustled away into the kitchen, and Harry thought fondly for a moment of his first visit to the Burrow, and Mrs. Weasley's motherly fretting about.

"Boyfriend?" He muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he and Charlie stepped inside. He just shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I told her you were a friend. This was the first time I realized she knew any different."

"It was your eyes, dear," she said from right behind them, and both men jumped and spun around. "The way your eyes shone when you spoke of Harry on your visit, I knew it was love. You know, I don't think I've ever known a homosexual couple before. Macy Crewe from town has a niece who's a homosexual, but I've never met her. Her niece doesn't eat meat though. You boys eat meat, don't you?"

"Uh… yes Mrs—Aunt Scarlett, we eat meat," Harry stammered, blushing bright red.

"Oh good, that's very important for growing young men," she said with firm nod. "Sugar with your tea?" Harry and Charlie shared a bemused look and joined her at the little kitchen table.

"Aunt Scarlett," Harry began cautiously, once they were all settled and the only sound in the kitchen was the peaceful trill of songbirds through the open window. "Charlie said that you met my mother. Would you… I mean, could you tell me about her?" Mrs. Price's eyes softened and she set down her tea slowly, smiling sadly at the young man.

"Yes, at my dear Liam's funeral. I had met Joel, my niece Ruby's little boy, several times. When he heard of my husband's passing, he brought his family all the way back to the farm for the funeral, and stayed for two weeks helping me get things in order with the herds. His wife, Iris, was a sweet thing, and Petunia and Lily were beautiful little girls. They were just a year apart, but Petunia made sure Lily always remembered who was older." Scarlett chuckled merrily, closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair as she got caught up in the memories. "Lily let her think she was in charge, but she always found a way get what she wanted. In the end, Petunia usually thought it had been her idea in the first place."

She opened her eyes and smiled at Harry.

"Tuney, that's what your mother called her. I had been trying to remember. They must have been about eight and nine when they came. Petunia loved to try on my old gowns and glide down the big staircase into the parlor like she was the belle of the ball, off to meet her prince charming. Your mother though, she would run around with the sheep, explore the woods in the back acres, and wanted to know the name of every last thing in my herb garden, and exactly what it was used for. She was sharp, and had such a strong sense of compassion. She helped one of the farm-hands birth a lamb while she was here. The mother was having trouble, we thought we were going to lose her and the baby. But Lily heard us talking from one of the guest rooms and went sprinting past us out the front door and into the pitch-black night, dressed only in her pajamas. We finally found her out in the fields, and she was cradling that sheep's head in her little arms, whispering to her and soothing a hand down her belly. The lamb came out right as rain after that, and Lily ruined her pretty little nightdress, insisting on holding the fresh little babe. She looked so proud of herself. To this day I don't know what she did; by all reason that ewe should have died—it was like your mother had a magic touch."

Harry was captivated by Scarlett's stories, his tea forgotten as he leaned eagerly over the table, hanging off of every word. Imagining his Aunt as a little girl playing dress-up was difficult, but he had also realized that she had been left with no other family than her husband and son, much the same as Harry had. It was strange, but Petunia suddenly seemed more… human to him.

It was the tales of his mother, though, that he was carefully filing away to memory. He could picture it, somehow; Lily as a small child, playing in the woods and making friends with the herds of sheep, dragging Petunia along on her adventures and leaving her sister thinking she had planned it that way from the beginning.

"I'm sorry I don't have more to tell you. I know you were very small when your parents died…" Scarlett apologized regretfully, and Harry realized that she had misinterpreted his silence as disappointment. Acting on instinct, he reached across the table and took one of her hands between his own.

"Please don't apologize; I can't thank you enough for sharing all of this with me. It's more than I ever knew about my mother. It's the best birthday present I could have asked for," Harry assured her. Scarlett patted his arm with her free hand, giving him a watery smile as she fought back tears.

"You're such a sweet child. You remind me of Lily, you know. You have her big heart, and her gentle nature. She always needed to sooth away any pain she saw in those around her; I see that in you." Harry thought this was an infinitely better comparison than to his mother's eyes, and he smiled gratefully.

Mrs. Price reclaimed her hand and began fussing around, putting the tea things away. Her voice was brisk when she spoke next, but Harry could tell she was just trying to cover up her emotional state.

"Charlie, be a peach and take Harry out to the family plot. Stop by the garden out back before you go; the flowers are blooming beautifully, you can help yourself to whatever you'd like. Make sure you stop back before you leave."

"Yes ma'am," Charlie agreed, and he took Harry's hand in his once more, pulling the nervous young man reluctantly out the back door. There was indeed a flourishing flower garden, as well as a thriving herb garden, just like the one Lily must have studied when she visited as a little girl. Harry walked slowly around the flowers, considering his options. He didn't want roses, though there was a pretty little rosebush in one corner. It seemed too formal, and for some reason it just... felt wrong. He had walked all the way around to the opposite end when a small sprig of white flowers caught his eye, and he quickly chose two of the blossoms.

"Those are nice," Charlie told him, nodding at the flowers when Harry rejoined him to walk towards a cluster of willow trees just past the yard.

"They're lilies," he answered softly. "They seemed right, somehow." Charlie's face softened.

"I think they're perfect." Ahead of them, five short rows of headstones appeared in an attractive little fenced in area. The trunks of the willow trees were outside the enclosure, but their branches stretched over the top and long strands of leaves hung down inside, providing shade and privacy.

Charlie held the gate open, and Harry cautiously stepped inside. There, closest to the front, was a polished, white marble stone that read:

_James Potter – Born 27 March 1960, Died 31 October 1981  
Lily Potter – Born 30 January 1960, Died 31 October 1981_

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Harry's breath hitched, and he reverently sank to his knees in front of the stone, tracing his fingers gently over his parents' names. He carefully lay the lilies down in front of it, stems crossed over each other as though in a fond embrace. Charlie neither spoke nor attempted to reach out for him, and Harry was grateful. He was overcome with emotion, and didn't want even his bondmate interrupting such a precious moment.

After a long silence, he managed to speak in a raspy whisper.

"Thank you for bringing me here. It was the perfect present; I can't even imagine something more perfect." The light weight of Charlie's hands settling on his shoulders was a welcomed sensation, and Harry sighed contentedly. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at the other man, accepting Charlie's hand as he reached down to help pull Harry to his feet.

Harry heard the faint sound of hissing, and looked down to see a small, intricately-scaled snake slithering out of a hole near the corner of his parents' headstone.

"It isssss the little princccce. You have come far from your nesssst. Your sssignature was very weak each time it called out to ussss. What hassss brought you sssso far from home?"

"Xenodermus javanicus," Charlie breathed in wonder from beside him, and Harry frowned over at him rather than answer the little reptiles question right away.

"Come again?"

"Dragon Snake. They're extremely rare, and even the experts, wizard and muggle, know very little about them. They don't have any close relatives; they even have their own genus. Some ancient wizarding philosophers say they're the missing link between dragons and snakes. I've never seen one before," Charlie said, gazing at the little snake in awe. Harry looked down at the pretty little serpent; now that he thought about it, her skin really did look more like Norbert's than any snake he had ever seen. Seeing a chance to repay Charlie just a little for the amazing gift he had given him, Harry knelt down by the curious little reptile and hissed softly at her.

"Hello little one. You're right, I am far from home. I came to see where my parents were buried. They died when I was very small."

"All that liessss here now is empty shellssss, little princccce. Your egg-makersssss' sssspirit linessss are wrapped around your own magic. Sssssurely you have felt them? And you have a third sssspirit line, this one sssstill anchored on Earth—and a mate. You are not ssssso alone, little princccce." Harry struggled to understand all of what the Dragon Snake was saying. Parseltongue was not an exact science; snakes, Harry had found, did not always experience the world quite how humans did, and thus there was not always a word-to-word interpretation of what they had to say.

"No, I am not so alone," he settled for, then asked politely, "Would you mind if I picked you up? I will be very gentle. I think my bondmate would like to see you closer, perhaps stroke your scales if you do not mind."

"That issss fine, little princccce. You have my permissssion to introducccce me to your mate."

Charlie made a strangled sound from behind him as Harry lay his hand on the ground, palm up, and allowed the little reptile to slither up and around his forearm.

"Harry, Dragon Snakes are supposed to be extremely poisonous! And there isn't an antidote, no one has ever been able to access enough venom to study it properly!" Charlie squeeked, face ashen as he watched his bondmate cradle the snake carefully.

"It's alright Charlie, she said I could introduce you." He switched back to parseltongue. "This is my bondmate, Charlie. Um… sorry, what's your name? I would like to present you."

"I am called Ananta-Shesha."

"Antana—Anatasha—er, would it offend you if I just called you Ana?" The snake hissed sharply in laughter.

"Ana is adequate, little princccce."

"Brilliant." He switched back to English once more, turning to his bondmate who was watching the entire exchange with bulging eyes. "Charlie, this is Ana. She says you can touch her if you'd like." Charlie gasped at the news, then reverently slid a single finger across a small patch of her scales.

"She's stunning," he whispered, and Harry translated this to the snake. She hissed back a reply and Harry blushed. "What did she say?" Charlie asked curiously. After a bit of prodding, Harry finally answered.

"She said… you make a very pretty mate for the little prince, and that we would do well together as egg-makers." Charlie grinned at Harry's discomfort, but he was blushing now as well. They stared at each other quietly for a few seconds, then the moment was broken by loud barking coming from Peaches back near the house.

"If you're ready, we should head back," Charlie told him. Harry nodded, and knelt down to let Ana slither off his arm.

"Charlie and I need to leave. It was very nice to meet you Ana, thank you for allowing me to introduce you."

"I do not think it issss wisssse for you and I to part wayssss jusssst yet, little princccce." Harry's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"Your magic growssss quickly towardssss your _primogenita_, but you do not undersssstand what thesssse changessss are or what they mean for you. I can ssssee how your powerssss evolve; I can help you." Harry recognized the strange word from his conversation with the snakes back at the graveyard in Surrey. Those serpents, too, had called him by the strange title of 'little prince.'

"I am afraid I can't stay, little one."

"No matter. I will ssssimply go with you."

"Er…" Harry looked to Charlie for guidance, forgetting for a moment that the red-head would not have understood a word of their conversation.

"What did she say?"

"She says she can help me understand the changes in my magic, and that we should take her with us."

"And what did you say?"

"I haven't yet; we can't though, can we? I don't imagine Dumbledore would allow a poisonous snake into headquarters, not to mention your mum… we haven't even told Dumbledore about the dragons or anything yet."

"You're forgetting, Harry, that as Lord of the Black family line, Grimmauld Place is technically _your_ house. You can bring anything there that you'd like. I don't think we should pass up an opportunity to learn like this."

"An opportunity to learn about my magic, or learn about Dragon Snakes?" Harry asked, suspicious of Charlie's vehemently eager response.

"If you can kill two grindylows with one hex…"

"Mmmmhmmmm…" Harry chided knowingly, then turned again to speak to the little serpent.

"Ana, it would be an honor to have you accompany us."

* * *

**Author Note:** I feel like such a turd-head for doing this, but I'm going to have to go to weekly updates a little sooner than I planned. I forgot how brutal my two weeks of job training is each fall, and then work and class for the fall start right after. I HOPE to update more often (and fully expect to on a regular basis) but I guarantee I won't wait longer than a week between updates. I'm supposed to be posting a new chapter tonight, and I just don't have it. I'm not willing to sacrifice the quality I want for my writing to keep up the every-other-day updates, sorry friends. :(

If it makes you feel any better, I promise to include a little bonus present onto the end of the chapter with my next update, which will for sure go up this weekend!

I'll end with one last thought: 16+ hours straight with people a day for two weeks is NOT PLEASANT for an introvert. All you other introverts out there, be glad you are not me with my job training right now. -shudders-


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